
Waken
I saw my breaths leaving my body, suspending in the air. Your eyes, those eyes seem to notice the unspoken fear of loss swelling up inside me and we break into a hundred nights of moonless sky. Yes, it’s time I wrote about you as I now place my palms over you. Half-meditating hand- tracing the energy that pulsates in me. In this instance, in this moment of complete awareness I know how much you’ve moved closer to my touch. It takes only a moment of knowing to be content with the world. You exist in warm quickening. A voice that calms me to sleep. An open sky before my fragile self. To the beatings of a heart Your ear roots to my chest, counts the flapping of wings. My hummingbird of a heart flits over years full of bloom as those wasps build their combs many times. Once against the wall cornice, now on my mesh-fenced patio. I tell you, no man have found the algorithm of drowning. I tell you, when a notion dies screams escape long after the lightning flare of the wound. Today, again we jump from topics, a lighthearted roar, an opening to the sound of disappearance. Birdsongs An odd leaf yellowing more each day from an otherwise busy stem that prepares to house the last bud. On days of lost belief, you are the only sign of autumn. A moment of truth. October brings you to me in a new kind of way. A numb sense of relief blues my daily sky. I laugh with the slightest movements of your love that grows inside me. On days like these odd leaf, I wish I could show you how cold winter feels without your hush sighs. Nothing seems right in the afterglow of what remains. A dead forest calling out to all the birds to sing once again. Bio: Sana Tamreen Mohammed has co-authored Kleptomaniac’s Book of Unoriginal Poems (BRP, Australia). A poet, an imagist and now a mother, her works have found homes in various journals, magazines and anthologies including Tupelo Press, The Peeking Cat Poetry and Dreich Magazine. She has edited The Prose and Poetry Anthology. She was a featured poet on a radio show in India. Her poems were displayed twice in Illinois. As a driftwood, she reads and selects submissions for EKL Review. Collaborative work: Between Here and There by Sana Tamreen Mohammed and art from Carl Scharwath
1 comment