But One Day

But One Day

"Raise your arms, now your chin,

Then close your eyes and your mouth,"

I said giving a bath to my naughty little boy.

The joy of experiencing such a thing:

The way he responded to my requests

Overpowered me until I took a deep breath,

I realized with a drop of sadness and fading smile

That it wouldn't last forever, but one day.

When he returned home after earning his graduation, 

I couldn't be more proud of what he had achieved

Until with a bag of mixed feelings, I heard him say,

"I'll take it from here," only to figure out that

My boy is a grown-up now, but one day.

The long walk along the country side

With the help of my cane,

Soaking in the sight of birds returning

To their abodes against the backdrop of

Lush green hills along the water stream: 

I indulge myself in such delightful spectacles

Reminiscing about my boy once I carried in my arms -

Until I felt a sudden grab on my shoulder

For my leg slipped and I was about to fall forward.

Then I glanced at the man with gray hair giving me

An assuring nod and my fading smile returned to life.

It is all but a dream that will come true; but one day.

July 25, 2021

Our Mother

Our Great Mother

Her patience is immeasurable,

Her tolerance - unimaginable.

And yet, she feels burdened

While her patience runs out.

To ease herself, to save her spine,

And to save most of her children,

She forsakes a few of them

With thunder bolts of death,

Warning the rest with fury

Without showing the grief

Withheld in her eyes.

She is, my people,

Our Great Mother,

Nature.

Childhood's End

A heartfelt laughter for the silliest

Of things from a child's lips

Is like adoring a blooming flower.

It is undoubtedly a celestial form

Of God from the Heavens above.

The same laughter for the tiniest

Of things from a grown-up is indisputably

Smeared with contrived mockery -

With a laughter suppressed by the lips.

The joy of childhood is not just

A seed of innocence planted at birth,

But it is in the virtue of living by it

Instead of shying away.

The easiness of simplicity is made

Uneasy by the complexity of smugness.

It is the malice that spreads depravity

Until decadence is established as an ideal.

Innocence is the freedom to be naïve,

But willing to taste the nectar of pristine

Life all around us; but not scathing it

By wearing the crown of ignorance.

The idiocy of petty fights to win over

The balance instituted by natural order

Is argued instead of dismissing it

For glorious abuses and selfish exploits.

Instead of chewing the gift of the present,

The known past and the unknown future

Stir up distress in the unconscious smile,

Even though it is the symbol of serenity.

The pretense of adulthood is a vermin

Of misery and despair to innocence;

Sadly it is nourished to a thriving child

Until the virtue is lost into oblivion.

There is a child in each one of us;

Why is it lost in the journey through time?

Aren't we all the children of God?

Aren't we all?

Art by Lina Abojaradeh

May 27, 2021