Arc

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

slightly out of phase, time zone differences, keeping slightly distant, slightly away, wish it were simply a matter of zip codes, so mine quickly changed, flying back to your bosom, my home, surpassing every construct of brick and wood and stone. but life has me grounded, perhaps better this way for me to appreciate the heavenly apparatus, mechanisms of mass in meaning paired with gravity that always tries to closer have such orbits being. soon, couple weeks from now, some normalcy iA returning, work again in the real life, a return from exile it feels like, once treatments cease and breathing is back to its regular rhythms. 

looking forward to the ocean becoming more calm, more stilled, routine and predictability, the taken-for-granted pillars of living when few other things appear to be working, though dunya can never own me, try as it will in futility, a son of the Sky won't stay buried in the earth, while his Garden constantly calls him, the only place he ever found of worth.