Habibi Means Beloved

How tenderly we name our place among each other..

Habibi Means Beloved

It rolls off our tongues endearing the spaces 
between us, a name so ubiquitous it could mean anyone,
so it means everyone. Habibi - we daily greet each other
claiming the sanctity of every life upon our lips. 

Waking up next to a lover under balconied green french
doors to the smell of manoushe wafting in from the corner
bakery - sabaho - good morning - habibi. Over the phone
with your brother discussing the latest exchange rate.
Holding your mother’s Mediterranean kissed hands.
At the dinner table asking for salt - habibi.

It catches the ear with familiar embrace. Beloved!
Who, me? Yes, yes you.

To the taxi driver dropping us off in his red plated 1990’s
Mercedes Benz we bid shukran - thank you - habibi. To the
butcher over the phone taking our order, and the delivery
man scooting over on a mo-ped no less than ten minutes 
later we raise a hand to our heart - habibi. To the young girl
in pajama joggers seated next to her mother behind the
register at the corner market handing back loose change
shukran habibti. Funerals and graduations, acceptance
letters and job offers, departures and arrivals. Even to a 
stranger crossed on a dark road, or a mistaken enemy in
a precarious moment. Habibi - we call out
hand raised in the air.

How tenderly we name our place among each other,
affirming our passing existence, one writhing heart
of a planet in an otherwise empty universe.

Habibi, we cry out across estranged distances.
Beloved, we are saying.

- Moudi Sbeity

painting by Kramer Dahl