An Islamic fabric remnant has survived centuries virtually intact, L'Institut du Monde Arabe, Paris.
This "deja vu" poem for Writers Island is based on the idea of a reunion with a soulmate:
Deja vu - it's you!
That same face that won my heart
nearly a lifetime ago.
All these years later,
I remember the thrill
we felt from that first moment:
exactly the same reaction now,
with an added frisson of fear.
Time has taught us
that overwhelming joy
comes with a high price,
often difficult to bear.
Others don't understand
or care about the magic
that infuses every breath
in each other's presence
or the sense of wholeness
we feel when we are together.
Friends and family worry only
about convention and appearances
that fit into their pre-conceived notions
love simply doesn't enter into the equation.
Yet for us, love has never wavered,
despite too much space and distance
and bad timing and wrong decisions,
made in haste and defiance
when practical choices were limited.
So here we are again:
living proof that one doesn't choose love;
it chooses you.
From the moment our eyes first met,
a flame leapt to life in both our hearts.
And all the intervening years
and oceans of tears
have failed to extinguish that fire.
How can we say goodbye - again?