Cycle~ By Wasan Qasim

You smell the birth of the forest. You hear the hiss of life, the shrug of existence. You see the sunlight through the droplet on the flower in the young soil. The terrain erupting a lava of energy, the chirping of new shoots, the blooming of vivacious birds, perched on lavish trees. Buds crawling slowly, sprouting unnoticed, the playground of nature abuzz with hums and echoes, where life giggles and reverberates. The earth like knight-less stallions, too proud to tame, hair panting, the unharvested gold of wheat fields against the morning zephyr, harness the sun, the agile dance of wind, a meteor stabbing the troposphere at the starting point of a new cycle.



Author Bio:
I was born and raised in Baghdad, Iraq. Both of my parents were archaeologists, so I can safely say that I lived my life surrounded by history. I grew up hearing stories about museums and artifacts, and I guess this is what sparked my love for discovery and the sense of wanting to get to the bottom of things, which I sometimes attempt to do through writing. I write in different genres, but mainly poetry and flash fiction.
I have been a freelance translator (English/Arabic) for more than 15 years. Along the way, I did some studying here and there: a BA in Translation, a Bachelor in Professional Writing, and now I’m in the last stages of finishing my MFA from Lindenwood University in Missouri.

I currently live in Vancouver, Beautiful British Columbia (as the license plate very accurately proclaims) with my husband and two children.