Indian Jasmine

 "Indian Jasmine" is a poem published at Peace Chronicle, Spring 2023.

We return to the same place where we lost something.

We think we lost a person.

We keep going to the same place with the hope to find them once more.

To have a look on their eyes

To touch their skin

To smell their sweat.

We keep going to the same places with the hope to find the love we once lost

The place is the same

There is an Indian jasmine flower lying on the floor

I used to wear the crown of these little flowers on my head

The white circle of little flowers protecting my long brown hair

We go back to the places we once left

We search for the face

For the love that we once had

We go back to the places we once left even when they turn to be just a graveyard

It is time for the little white jasmine to die in peace.

The places we once left, 

the faces we once had, 

the love we once tasted

Fades away

The trace of our feet to the graveyard won’t turn to make dead alive

The tears we shed over the tombs won’t be heard from the other side

the nights we spend awakened waiting for the sun to rise so we will find our way home

the places we once had are not there anymore.

I stand in front of your grave

I can still see you

But couldn't find the face

I could still feel you

But couldn’t reach for your hand

I could still smell your skin

But don’t know what to do with all these little jasmine flowers that are hidden in my heart.

The Gift at my Door- Poetry

"The Gift at My Door" is a poem published at Peace Chronicle, Spring 2023.

There is a pregnant cat that keeps sitting on the doormat of my home.

She just sits there and waits.

What kind of faith this cat has?

She waits at the doormat,

she sits still.

Not knowing at what time, I will open the door and put some food.

She waits.

Not knowing if I am here or not.

She waits.

Not knowing if this is the right place.

She waits.

Not knowing of I am the one who might open the door and put some food or

Other neighbor who might scare her and

She has to run away with her heavy weight.

She waits.

Not knowing that last night I opened the door and couldn't find her.

I needed her to be there.

It was painful to feel the missing of her.

I worried that she might not ever come back.

The voice inside me whispers;

She will be back

She will find her way

She Knows.

This morning, the cat is sitting at the doormat of my home.

She sits still.

She waits.

She comes

She knows.

This kind of unshaken faith, I pray for.

The Gift at my Door & Indian Jasmine- Two Poems

 

"The Gift at my Door" and "Indian Jasmine" are published at Peace Chronicle, Spring 2023.

These two poems are created and written in English, not translated from my Arabic poems. 

I find expressing my feelings in another language is like crossing over to new frontier and grateful for putting my work out there in the world for new readers from different backgrounds. 

I believe that poetry when it is genuine has the invisible thread that glues all our pieces, reminding us of what human connectedness is.

Re- Enchantment is the the main theme of the issue.

The digital magazine can be reached from here.

The magazine is one of the publications of Peace and Justice Studies Association