Seagulls flying over.
The sun glistening upon each of the small waves crashing down in the bay.
Some boats approach.
Perched high above the old city of Istanbul on a terrace in a white plastic chair.
No one with me but the wind and the sound of tourists exploring below.
Smells in the air as dinner time approaches
As I stair in awe of the Blue Mosque from the roof, my pen touches paper and begins to tell a story.
A story that will last the life of the paper.
As the colors of an Arabian sunset warm the entire environment before my eyes,
the Muslim call to prayer begins its daily dialogue echoing through the urban spaces of both old and new
As it flows throughout the city I find it soothes my traveling heart.
Realizing from whence I came and yet where I sit now,
Tears form in my eyes and begin to roll down my cheek.
My heart began to fill with light, love, and happiness.
I was born again in that moment.
I was touched by a culture I was told to fear.