The story of a dream:
It consists of short and very short thoughts that tell about a reality that the writer went through and some of the situations, and it contains messages and advice from which the reader can learn in his daily practical life.
I hope that you will respond to the issue of approving the publication of the book
Many thanks and gratitude to you
Maryam Abdullah Al-Dhanhani
Manifestations of Mohammed bin Rashid
Horses are in the character of Mohammed bin Rashid, the alphabet of language, and the dialectic of primary longings. They are the moment of brilliance in the race, in the context, and in the eternal view. They are a horse in the poetry of the poem, they are the cooing on the dewy branches, they are the curls at noon. We approach the youth of horses and the blink of a poem, and the brilliance awes us, and our ancient history, butterflies spread their sheets on the horseback with the chivalry of the nobles, and the youth of the nobles. We approach, while we are in the field, a feeling, a sky, studded with the verses of the Transfiguration and the spirit of the pure, we approach the horses of Muhammad bin Rashid, as if we are reading a poem by the most famous stallions. Poets, we approach a wild flower embraced by longing in a reddish soil. We approach the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid, as if we are following the steps of a language full of song. We approach the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid as if we are stepping into space. We approach the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid, as if we are drawing a picture of a star dancing in the sky. Heaven, we approach the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid, as if we are reciting the story of light in the imagination of the pious. We approach the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid, as if we are walking on a carpet of water. We approach the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid, as if we are flying with wings whose feathers are made of beautiful braids. We approach the horses of Muhammad. Bin Rashid, as if we were kissing the lip of the air. We were approaching the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid, as if we were hugging a rose on the equator. We were approaching the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid, as if we were lining up the letters of a poem in the style of Haifa. We were approaching the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid, as if we were crossing a river whose birds were in the same pattern. Eternity, we approach the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid, as if we were in the presence of Greek philosophies, we approach the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid, as if we were in the original, and in the chapter, the secret in the seismic leap controversy, we approach the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid, as if we were in the Houma and Jaljaliyya, approaching the horses of Mohammed Bin Rashid, as if we were in the hermitage of brilliance and oriental gumption. We approached the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid as if we were in the cloud’s sheath and the generous miniatures of abundance. We approached the horses of Mohammed bin Rashid as if we were in the heart of the cloud, rich in dust.
Novel: Where did you lose your hearts?
They were sitting at the dining table eating lunch.
The brothers were arguing about something, and nothing stopped them except the mother’s crying and the father’s shock. The brother stood up to find out what had happened and was shocked as well. The sisters did not realize what had happened to them...what might put the shock on their faces. They only knew one thing, which was that death was coming.
That day came when the father, who works in the most honorable profession of protecting the homeland, would leave. He was going to the battlefield!
Days passed and nothing had happened yet.. They thought that what was published were just rumours, until one day they felt an earthquake, an earthquake that was neither strong nor weak. From that moment they knew that their country had begun to collapse.. They knew that they had reached the end, or to be more precise, they had not reached the end. It was only the beginning, the beginning of the war and the beginning of the pain.
From that moment, the family began to struggle with death...to struggle with pain...the pain of loss...the loss of the self, the loss of the father, and the greatest loss was the loss of the homeland! The homeland that sheltered and protected them...so how could they lose the place where they made their memories?
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