Windows into the void

Letters on Yellow Leaves
By Qayss Ramli

Autumn is the truest farewell letter—
the language of nature
as it writes its final messages
on yellow leaves.

Its voice is the faint trace of henna
on the hand of a bride
who has bid her youth farewell forever.

It is the bell that tolls before the end,
the call that reminds us
of eternal love
and inevitable solitude.

In autumn, the light dies,
queens fall,
and the journey into the unknown begins—
draped in darkness.

Beneath the embrace of farewell,
queen bees perish,
and nature waits
for the spring to return.

Autumn holds the images of endings:
flowers wither,
leaves fall,
and the earth wraps itself in sorrow.

And we…
we live through autumn
awaiting another birth—
when the light returns.

The Bet
By Qayss Ramli

As John held the horse’s reins, leading it with steady steps toward the racetrack, he turned to her and said in a voice that carried both hope and risk:

“If you win today, I’ll earn ten times what I own… I’ve bet everything on your horse.”

He smiled before she could grasp the weight of his words, his eyes clinging to hers.

“I know I’m the only one who chose your horse, but my real bet isn’t on the horse… it’s on you.”

When she stood at the starting line, moments before the gunshot split the horizon, Arij lifted her gaze toward him and said with a clarity that allowed no doubt:

“You’ll win either way.”

John froze—his heart nearly stopped.
He understood the message: either the money… or her.

“If the horse wins, you’ll gain the fortune. But if I lose the race—you’ll win me.”

He hesitated.
Should he wish for her to lose so he could escape bankruptcy?
Or should he hope she’d win—losing everything he owned, yet perhaps gaining her forever?

In that instant, he realized that no one can win everything at once.
Money burdens time,
time devours opportunity,
and she—she was running not just to win,
but to save herself.

He knew that hard beginnings are what give the future its strength.
Time was on his side for now,
but at the finish line, it would no longer belong to either of them.
Both were watching the end approach,
both knowing that every ending is merely another beginning.

And when the race was over,
each walked away holding fragments of shattered dreams,
leaving behind what was once closest to the heart.

Five years later,
John discovered that Arij had given him something she herself could never keep—
something distant from her,
yet the closest thing to his heart.

I Don’t Find My Things Easily
By Qayss Ramli
Winter 2024

I don’t find my things easily.
They often stand right before me—
and I don’t see them.

Not because I am blind of sight,
nor blind of heart—as people say,
but because I imagine they run away from me
to places
I would never think to search.

And so,
with all my foolishness,
my things surprise me after long exhaustion—
with loud, teasing laughter.
I stare at them,
smiling like an idiot,
while my heart quietly weeps.

Days and experiences
can shape you
until you no longer resemble others—
except in form.
They leave within you
the color of fear,
the sound of farewell,
and the scent of betrayal—
woven into your very nature.

Next time,
I won’t look for my things.
I’ll wait for them—

as the spider waits,
without boredom,
and without hope.