First one…
i am hushed by the sea
enthralled by its beauty, imprisoned by its passion
as the fatigue of swimming
withers my voice away…
yet i am not alone
there are many of us
immigrants, refugees, migrants
and despite how voiceless we become
we must never give up
on singing our songs
“singers of the sea”
Where I come from…
i come from the ground between my mother’s legs
but now i waver like ocean
like a body…
of water
unable to ground a flag
soulfully and homelessly enslaved to the space between
though i am tired
i continue to bathe with one leg on each
hips flowing left and right
eyes opening and closing
to the blue water that colors me
“back and forth dancing”
She thought it was cotton…
cotton is falling from the sky!
my mother recalls crying
i look at her with astonishment
how did my mother not know of snow?
how did she believe clouds dropped cotton
like they drop rain?
but technically, it makes sense
my mother spent her life in Verdun of Beirut
far from the mountains of Lebanon
humid weather was her only truth
and with that realization
comes a change in my own perspective
such a drastic change, that this coming winter
i too shall see cotton
“i too shall see cotton”
Where my father worked…
my father says he worked in a Greek restaurant
at 1 University Place, making salads at the salad bar
he says he loved his job, for his boss Peter treated him well
and promoted him to manager after two months of work
till this day my father says
he misses those days
“my father says”
And my mother…
my mother made bracelets and necklaces at Herald Square
her boss was named Miss Molly
she says Miss Molly was a great friend
who took her out to eat, night after night
and refused to let her pay
when i ask my mother what she would eat
she says seafood
because seafood is always halal
“my mother says”
Last one, for humanity…
the cries of the mother
whose child’s life was taken
can’t be heard
through the loud silence of ignorance
and the blood of the murdered
that blankets the ground
can’t be seen
through the blindness of compassion
the light that hides in the shadows
longs for a rainbow that will never come
for this storm is eternal
slowly destroying benevolence
in its path amongst humanity
so let us have a prayer
for the stricken souls
“for the stricken souls”
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