My dearest boy

My dearest boy,

You have been in my thoughts for a while now. I think it’s the heat, yet not only; possibly it’s the same feeling that you sense every July -that I still sense- and what I call the prelude for the blue horizons.
You have always given birth to the most beautiful thoughts during this prelude.
Never stop.
It would be best if you were bored, to be adept at creating. When everything comes to a standstill because of the heat, it is then that you start enjoying your reveries, and you toy with the marvellous ideas and thoughts.
Don’t ever follow others in the search to fill their time for fear of their solitude.
I remember a great summer you spent entirely alone, without doing any act of importance, and you never minded your solitude; on the contrary, you’ve learned how to love it, equipped only with your tender years, and the love for it became your most favourable wind to cast away the noise of the many.
Do you remember the reveries you described to me in your summer letter?
Almost showing me the traits of the faces of the people and the gods and the creatures you’ve day-dreamt about.
Do you remember the love adventures and the great friendships that you had longed for since you were a child?
Do you remember the uncertainties and the bewilderment of an enormous existence you couldn’t decipher yet?
However, you always felt in your guts that one day the path would be clear and your voyage companions would be of the best of company.
Well, my boy, let me assure you -and your heart must be thrilled- that you shall weave a beautiful canvas, and in its threads, you shall find a great love, someone that only the thought when he’s not next to you takes your breath away. That someone will be your heartbeat, your morning smile and the steadiness of every
step you take in this adventure we call life.
Love him, my boy, with every breath and every blink of an eye; love him and chant your love to the
birds; love him and know that you are loved, and you can knock on the doors of the heavens and pour light on them.
Marry that love, my boy, and invite the winds to celebrate it and the seas to baptise you both into a melody of salty waves.
Marry him and know that every new step is a new tale of joy.

Marry him, and I hope one day you shall find words to fill pages for me, words that recount to me your joy and your desire to weave more.
Never stop your reveries; they shall inundate your mind, heart and soul with beauty.
You were born in July, my boy; it is for a reason. July is the month when you are born continually, and it is when you give birth to beauty.
I wish you beauty, my boy, and do not cease to write; your letters fill my heart with belonging, belonging to the wind, to unshackled love tales and reveries.

May the Sun guards you.

Gilbert Halaby