IN THE DARK NIGHT
We hear the lapping water; our fear is palpable.
Three hundred of us, she was thinking helplessly, and the one beside me, so big, she will surely give birth soon on this rocking boat. Shivering we stand holding onto each other because there is no other space, each buried deep in our thoughts. All of us fleeing our homelands, our culture, our deepest beliefs.
It is no wonder we are silent and fearful, when deep down we feel like traitors but we must escape the terror we left behind. Will we survive this treacherous voyage into the unknown? We have given our last pennies to get on this boat, so we have only our hopes and prayers left.
For a better life, safety, work and some kind people who will help us and please give us some food and water. Oooh, this poor woman her pains have begun; how will she survive with a baby. Hopefully a strong one like the mother.
We come from different lands and don’t even speak the same language, but I think we all pray to our Gods. Oh ALLAH, we have come so far.
Please, Please have mercy on us…………………….…Inshallah
The decision to be perfect,
should not be lightly taken,
For in order, form and function,
often whimsy is forsaken,
A heap, a clump, a rogue-ish pile,
or any wayward place,
with golden hues and cornflower blues,
which reclaim unwanted space,
Sings a song more eloquent,
than any opus grand ,
In nature’s own arrangement,
beyond what we have planned.