Poetry: Ashraf AboArafe
Tomorrow, shall I meet you?
Oh, my heart still shakes with fear.
Longing burns within me,
As the promised hour draws near.
I once drew tomorrow closer,
Yet I trembled, turned away…
Still, I hailed its gentle promise,
When it smiled on me that day.
Life I bear—its bliss and sorrow,
In its fire and joy I stay,
Free in soul, yet bound in passion,
Melting heart that fades away.
Tomorrow, shall I meet you?
You—my Eden, my desire,
You—the flame my soul has known,
You—the kiss of life and spirit,
You—the music of my own.
Will tomorrow light your brightness,
In the darkness of my eyes?
Ah, the joy of dream’s fulfillment,
Ah, the fear that underlies.
Tomorrow, shall I meet you?
How I call you—hear my pleading,
Every note a prayer I sing.
Oh, my waiting—how it broke me,
Hope became a sharpened sting.
Were it not for you, my darling,
None who come or go would stay.
For my life is but tomorrow,
Dreaming still of our one day.
Come—or linger, love, forever,
Do with me whate’er you please,
For my heart is yours completely,
Break or heal, deny or seize.
Tomorrow, shall I meet you?
This world is but a story,
You—the thought within its page.
This world is fleeting seasons,
You—the years that never age.
This world is eyes wide open,
You—the sight their gaze adorns.
This world is sky unending,
You—the moon that night reborns.
So have mercy, love, I beg you,
On this heart that longs and prays,
For tomorrow you shall hold it,
In your tender hands always.
Tomorrow, shall I meet you?
And tomorrow blooms with rivers,
With its gardens, shade, and grace.
And tomorrow, we forget it—
Every sorrow, time erased.
And tomorrow, dreams will guide us,
Every shadow fades away.
Yes, the future may be lovely—
But the present shines today.
Tomorrow, shall I meet you?
