Crossing
The storm that meets nothing in its path dies. And short sentences are the best way of crossing oceans.
...
Speed
I take things lightly that perhaps are heavy. For example, I know I’m the gap between two pavements, yet I cross it as fast as I can — why? And because I take risks with my voice, I trip on air. And the first bead of sweat that trickles down my forehead drowns me. I take things lightly that I know to be heavy. This is the truth. Yet I am nothing but an illusion — a lantern lost in a forest. And whoever comes across these words will find a large stone. You can easily throw it in my face.

[Translation of two poems byAbdullah al Ryami, from these lovely people]