A Second Break in the Action…A Second Poem

Wrote this the other day after “feeling” the first line after looking at my arm and just noticing how frail we are despite our obvious strengths.  It stemmed from an argument where I forced my self to feel as uncomfortable as possible by telling myself that I just might be wrong…super hard to do.  The “self” doesn’t like that very much.  Enjoy and feel free to comment and or share.

Today I saw my fragility
thin bones buried in the past
and too weak for the future. 
Huddled and curled beneath the blankets of insecurity.
Exposed and undressed 
it shouted and screamed to be held.
Awkward and crooked 
it fought to be left alone.
There it laid worried and anxious
bound by its inability to be anything 
else other than what it was made to be.
Battered, bruised and loving every minute
it screamed to be held..
held on to.
Attached.
Never to be exposed again.
I turned and saw my strength
seemingly beyond my grasp.
But there it laid
Sure and confident
Thick bones rooted in the only thing that
is relevant.
Disgusted with the past and
Annoyed by the future
It didn’t scream at all.
Strong and bright
Hopeful and Imaginative
It laid next to me in peace.

A Break in the Action…A Poem

This just popped into my head the other day.  I figured it would be a nice break from heavy conversion stuff.  It was inspired by Swedish author Johannes Anyuru and my own parents.  Enjoy inshAllah.

If I deserve your prayers 
then let me hear them before you pass…
for what you leave me is not important.
If you pray for me from your heart 
for our well being…
then let your will be fulfilled.
I have not seen pastures as green and as beautiful
as your pure wants for me.
No mountain top could explain 
the views I hope for you to see…
For what you have given me is enough, 
in and of itself.
I have eaten, I have drank
and have breathed a breath of ease,
all from your dedication and work.
I pray for your prayers for your desires of my success.
Let it not be in wealth, place or esteem,
for in the hearts of men 
will always be regrets 
in loving the true ones who raised them.
Regrets of doing more, healing the sores
and just knowing that you are there.
I have taken, I have given
but I ask for one thing more
Upon your sweet lips 
let the words drip as honey
and fall to the ground
to leave me a trail to lead me in hopes
to the place where I can kiss your faces once again.
Pray for our peace, our belief and ability to see
For although a child may not deserve your precious supplications
You must know it is all that we want.