A Point Made

I wonder, sometimes, how long a point has to be proved, before it sinks in.

How often a heart must break?

It is like an incessant tropical rain,

Thundering down upon soft soils,

Muddying, drowning the earth.

Or even better,

The frozen forests in winter,

where after all, the warmest houses

keep their doors shut.

But within my heart,

I have no blame.

For would I dare open my door

but an inch,

And risk the deadly frost to creep

across the floors

and smother the fire

that burns so brightly in the hearth?

Nay, keep them shut, friend.

For the cold is for those

who risked their fragile skins

in the first place. 

Respectfully and with apologies,

I take back my inquiries,

My half-frozen knocks upon your sturdy door.

Sleep deeply, friend

For despite my disturbance,

You house remains warm.

Your fire is roaring,

And your next visitor shall come in the Spring.


Nesha Usmani


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