Tree of Life – SHE

SHE.

She, looked at her familiar surroundings, sighed and sat down, cross legged, tired limbs, puffy eyes, ragged skin.
No. This can’t be it.

She, picking up her pen and deep rooted notebook, sighed and starting writing; fragmented thoughts, disjointed puzzles, unanswered questions.
No. This can’t be it.

She, torn between half smiles and those half frozen tears; laughs.
No. This can’t be it.

The tree has deep rooted veins, the golden veins bulge on the cover, a backdrop of long brown winters.

The tree, has branches and leafs.
They begin to fall, scattering the brown earth like stars in the dark sky.
Her golden feathers crumble to the ground.

No. This can’t be it.

She, sits staring at her leafless tree, sighs and puts the pen down.

No. This can’t be it…

The roots don’t budge,
but
The branches still grow,
Seasons change,
Life once more takes ITs form.

She, sitting cross legged, tired to the bone; rejoices and quietly cries.
See, this is IT….

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SHE: On Love

SHE

She, never taught me On Love.

She, working her fingers to the bone each day,

rubbing her feet at night, alone, in the dark,

crying, aching, bruised and estranged.

She, never taught me On Love.

How could SHE?

She, who was sacrificing her rights, each and every day,

never allowed to feel the real beauty of her own laugh, 

She, never taught me On Love.

But really, how could SHE?

Never knowing herself, who to ask.

She, never asking, never questioning, always believing, always, it’s a Farce!

SHE – who never taught me On Love,

still struggling each day, still crying, alone, in the dark.

I tried telling her,

“Listen! Swollen ankles cannot be worked with broken hands.”

But Still. 

She, She never taught me On Love.
“No Stop! Listen, how could I really?”

 SHE, she said, never taught me On Love.

Soldiers of War

The quiet murmurs of the soldiers,
Whispering into the night – watching and waiting in front of the enemy line.
On the opposite side, they whisper and stutter, looking above hoping for the heavens to thunder,
Silently praying, again standing on the enemy line,
Both sides of soldiers quiver,

Shootings, killings, too much death; how much more is there to wonder?

They sink in deep, feet firm, shoulders shaking,
Who’s the enemy who’s the foe?
They both loose out, each side swearing their fighting for their righteous cause.
What cause?
Death evades no soul.
Still holding on tightly to their guns and swords,
Who’s blood will fall more?
Is anyone’s blood worth really worth more?
A few question an hesitate, They look around, knowing everyone here is the bait.
The first shot aired, They both know now, there’s no turning back, from the devils lair.
March on. March on.

Death will taste each and everyones Soul.

An Ode to Palestine

Everyday I wake up to hear more lives lost;
More children orphaned and their cries not heard…
Everyday I can hear their screams in my ears,
I can see tears streaming down their faces, watching their loved ones go numb,
Everyday we live, while their hearts slowly stop,
From the mass killings condoned by Israel’s handguns.

Everyday my heart turns cold knowing we can never do enough.
Everyday I question my lord what have they ever done?

But everyday I know their souls will go on.
They will live beyond this worlds gruesome love.
They will live to soar the sky’s up above.
They will be remembered and their hearts will go on to the place where we all one day will return.

They can take their lives and loved ones,
But only Allah can take their souls high, high up above.
Everyday I will pray and I will watch.
Everyday..
Everyday…

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