I groaned softly as I stretched after climbing down from the weathered jeep. The long drive up into the mountains from the airport in Islamabad had worked its way deep into my bones. For a moment I simply stood there at the outskirts of my village, listening to the wind move gently through the trees overhead.
I know what burning flesh smells like
do not be too disturbed—
it has only been within the sterile walls
of an operating room
Cauterized before hemorrhage occurs
I’ve made a journey of days
er, months
no, years in fact
in this body of mine.
Across the sea of luscious full trees, basked in the honey glow of the sun, animals tract in herds, prides, and flocks over the land. One boy swung lazily in a makeshift hammock with his eyes closed, soft snores sailing from his lips.
In Jannah, inshaAllah, I pray my home will be made of many rooms, each one holding a memory of those dearest to me. One of those rooms will be a red-bricked house, part-dorm, part-home..
if ever one life was placed before
the other, radiant and beaming forth
then paths of grass would justly be laid
instead of roads, cemented and paved
It’s been six years since I lost him.
But in truth, the fear of losing himÂ
started much earlier.
A correspondent in the north of Gaza recorded
News coverage in a steady and steadfast voice from and for his people.Â
Attentive, anchored in principle, and memorizing both…
Thoughtful reads. Writing prompts. New pieces.
It just might become your favorite email in your inbox, insha'Allah.
