Morning by the Bosphorus

The sun rises
in great silence

but the waters,
pregnant with legend,

speak in silvery whispers.

Behold,
o nameless pilgrim,

behold
the holy flame,

what men have called
Byzantium,
Constantinople,
Istanbul,

behold
this dream of civilization
carved by the wisdom of death,

behold
this city of domes,
cats and conquerors,

behold
this city of prophecy
that cuts through continents
like a sword.

Make what you want of it,
o nameless pilgrim,
it shall not be enough.


[7:12 am, 24th October 2025,
Karaköy, Istanbul.]