
Artwork by Ayesha Alshared
Trail of Seasons
By Habib Tabaja
In the ides of March
Our peculiar souls met in the walks of life
In a divinity I could not comprehend
And you smiled as the sun limned your face
At the end of a Beirut winter so sour
In the rains of April
You played me for a fool
And left for a gray London in a deluge of longing
Its broken cobblestone streets you walked alone
While my love for you grew with the spring grass
In the renewed hope of May
You danced under the brilliant Parisian lights
As you blew me kisses from a lone tower
To my prison in the East
Where I wrote letters to you in candlelight
In the promising joy of June
You toured the idyllic Alps
While papers and books buried my thoughts
But my love for you pervaded my dreams
In lonely nights where the heat disturbed my slumber
In the lazy nights of July
You ate cherries in the German countryside
As I wandered through the ghosts of my past
Trying to understand my devotion to you
In an argument with myself that I lost
In the dog days of August
You bathed in the Mediterranean sun
And meandered on the Greek shores
While I began writing poems for you on old paper
Gathering what I could explain in words and ink
In the vague lethargy of September
You grew weary in the Spanish olive groves
And dozed off under the shades of Iberian palms
As I painted my own perilous Odyssey
Drawing from the old books of Gibran and Poe
In the sudden chill of October
You walked through crowded New York streets
And spent long afternoons at corner cafés writing
While I burned your letters in the furnace of my mind
Wishing the ashes settled in the shape of your lips
In the early thunderstorms of November
You journeyed to a war-torn Damascus
And gathered what you could of its lost treasures
As I envisaged your presence in my dimly lit room
Yearning to drown in your emerald eyes once more
In the pale daylight of December
You drank coffee in the snows near Oslo
And braved blizzards to celebrate a festive Christmas
While the cold chained me to my bed
Turning each night’s sleep into a battle
In the bleak moonlight of January
You wrote back to me from a gloomy Prague
And collected souvenirs from the most obscure places
As I found shattered remains of hope in your lines
Pining for you like a sparrow to the return of spring
In the pensive weeks of February
You arrived back in Beirut with the storms
And drew a mosaic of emotions on my door
While I strolled with you by the tempest seas
Forgetting your promises of love that never came to be
Habib Tabaja is a Lebanese student in his sophomore year at the American University of Sharjah who is majoring in Finance with a minor in International Studies. Although he has a keen interest in his major in minor, he is extremely passionate about writing, literature, and music. He loves exploring both classical and modern literature as well as writing poems and short stories. He is currently writing a novel. His writing is majorly inspired by heavy metal, neoclassical, and orchestral music.