Fragment IV

Sometimes,
I see you so clear;
A fingerprint on a tree leaf,
I can smell your tears
On the sea breeze.

Mira

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Fragment III

Like Sibyl, I hold time in my hands,
‘As many as sand grains in your hand, you shall live’
An immortal fire within a shroud of flesh
Shrivelling, failing.

I see the reflection of all that I shall lose
On every green leaf, on every red rose.
I smell the scent of renewal; hope
Never meant to be,
I feel the changes, I taste the acid of time;
A map written in the eyes of a child
A key buried in the belly of the sea.

© Mira Abdullah

Fragment II

In olden times
There was a singer of holy songs,
A nightingale’s voice resounding through the portals of heaven; of hell.
Words written on sand; recited by a golden dove,
Pain carved in stone; never ending, never ceasing,
A golden lyre strummed by a god.
I hear them now,
In a heartfelt song,
In a mother’s lullaby to her child,
In the silence of the universe.
I hear them
In the roaring winds outside of my window,
In the whispering streams of blood and pain.
I hear them when my soul screams your name.

© Mira Abdullah