Time; God’s Great Thing.

A memory-maker

A dream spinner,

a way to heal, to transform.

Where, in the long stretches,

do moments turn into memory?

August Popsicles dripping down a summer dress

Warm Septembers,

Rusty, breezy Octobers,

Chilly Novembers giving way to winter,

and those nights I used to write and write.

Countless seasons have passed me by,

I am left clinging to childhood, to a carefree

sense of wild freedom,

of so much time to do so much,

and now, too many distractions,

and too little time.

 

Nesha Usmani

 

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The Walk

With hands clasped together, they walked;

Their shoes leaving deep prints in the mud.

Upon reaching a crossroads, they stopped,

And, between them, small white puffs of

breath gathered and scattered, like

regret which comes and goes as it pleases.

Above them, birds sang,

Reminding them that life, indeed,

does not depend on the severity of

their loss, not on their hearts’ painful

breaking, healing, and breaking again.

But for the moment, both were content

to drop the world, if for another gaze

in the other’s eyes,

Another moment of laughter, or a moment of love.

But neither had the heart to find Hope.

The reason for their parting suddenly

became unclear, unreal, impossible.

But to bring again the storm of questioning

was no longer something they could do.

They let go.

One more look back, and then another, and again

until each had gone from sight.

But with them walked the other’s Absence.

Absence, the silent emptiness left behind,

the delicate perfume left in a lover’s wake.

And with them Absence walked, a tireless presence;

relentless and stubborn in its demand for attention,

who walked until both had the strength to leave it behind.

Another companion joined. And this was Memory.

A strange fellow, who showed only the bright, iridescent facets

of love the two shared,

and often conveniently stood in front of the darkness, the blemishes.

But Memory grew and evolved with them, and matured

and eventually became a part of Love.

Love, the unseen, unheard companion

who had taken root inside their hearts.

And only when the time came, only when Absence

had been abandoned,

Only when Memory had infused with it (Love),

did Love reveal itself.

Bloomed within them like a whispered comfort,

a warmth against their frigid flesh,

And they knew that they had indeed loved each other well.

And within that comfort, a spark was lit

And this companion was Prayer.

And Prayer had come to find Hope.

Nesha Usmani