Along the Open Plains

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I trace the lay lines from mountain peak to shaded valley via open plains, lined poplar trees and scattered land, as blue skies and crimson sunset’s smile turns to laughter. In these wild open fields where the grass turns brown in spots, there are wild flowers and dozens of scattered pebbles and grass under our feet. Bare trees with bend trunks; a cool breeze washes my face, as suddenly there are no umbrella trees to relief me from the rays of the sun. At night across the sky the stars align and if you look close enough you can see the stellar installation of this world’s cosmos. Indeed Taanayel is a world apart, as it is left to nature’s own devices.

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5000 Years in the Making: Salamouni

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“Lebanon’s exceptional location and its singular morphology have contributed to making it a hub of botanic biodiversity. It is one of the nuclear centers of genetic species of wheat, barley, lentils and vetch, their cultivation dating back more than 5,000 years. Other agricultural species originating from Lebanon include olives, figs, grapes, pomegranates and carob. Foods made from these plants lie at the basis of the local culinary traditions.

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The Black Peak

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Towards a limitless cloudy sky, where the clouds hang beneath your feet in mercy of a day’s end, the gaze is drawn upward to the distant long summit. One could measure the tips of the mountaintops peak to peak with their small hands. Minuscule they stand, those tiny mounds. Yet up close they tower high, peaks in clouds in mystery and shroud, far and high, they reside.

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The New Age Prophet

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“Your children are not your children.

They are sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you.

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls…

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

Khalil Gebran, The Prophet

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The Art of the Poetic Duel

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I said the matter is love

She said alas love!

I said there is a cure

She said there is none, my eyes

I said I am going to go mad and leave this land

She said there is no land without love

I said I will weep

She said in vain

I said I am going to go mad

She said ah mere words

I said I will vent my sorrows

She said mere words

I said I will moan

She said others have tried

I said where is the compassion?

She said it has been folded away

Sabah & Wadih el Safi

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Our Lady of the Light

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Sitting atop the mountain, overlooking the deep blue sea beneath, a light breeze strolling along the narrow path that leads to the little chapel below, stands saydet el nourieh church, “ our lady of the light.” Fenced with lush greenery and trees, standing between the sky and within hands reach of the Mediterranean, it seems like it is suspended right above the sea.

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The Ghost of Tripoli

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As twilight softly kisses the horizon, a sturdy breeze plays mischievously in this derelict beauty only a short distance from the center of Tripoli, to the south of the city, bordering enormous, intense apartments blocs. Forgotten domes and empty seats are taken captive by the resilient flowers that grow amidst this deserted space. Like little shreds of hope they peek out just above the ground, holding firmly to the dream of what was once an almost picturesque reality that has drifted into abandonment.

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