Your voice, deep and soothing,
Amulet I carry.
Rooted in my lungs, a memory,
A coro,
sad lullaby that warned children,
Life ends.
Stops mid-verse,
Play anyway.
Hurry now,
Sing me the muñeca song,
But don’t let her die this time.
Keep her counting and jumping,
Counting and jumping.
Her blue dress bouncing to the rhythm.
Happy and unaware,
Alive.
Tengo una muñeca vestida de azul...
The sun rose gently, soft and warm,
But the house feels quiet, missing her charm.
Eid mornings filled with light and grace,
Now hold echoes of her smiling face.
She'd sit by the door, hands soft and old,
A shawl wrapped tight against the cold.
Her eyes would shine with joy anew,
As we lined up, eager for what we knew.
A crisp ten-rupee note, folded with care,
Slipped into our hands with a loving stare.
To the world, it was small – just a simple bill,
But in our hearts, it holds value still.
We’d run and laugh, feeling so grand,
That tiny treasure safe in hand.
To her, it wasn’t the amount she gave,
But the love and blessings that she saved.
Now Eid arrives, but she’s not here,
Her absence is sharp, yet love draws near.
I close my eyes and I can see,
Her gentle smile, watching over me.
The ten rupees may fade away,
But the memories will always stay.
Her kindness lingers, soft and deep,
A love eternal, ours to keep.
So as we gather, side by side,
We know she’s with us, full of pride.
And every Eid, in hearts and prayer,
We found our great-grandmother there.
A thousand promises and a hundred days.
Years go by and I’m the one you left behind.
Something inside broke, something sparked out
Screaming and begging, bargaining and crying
Let me take your place, don’t leave me behind I pleaded.
Shroud in an invisible veil of suffering; it was you who brought light.
I see you in the turning of the seasons, the blooming of flowers and falling of leaves as I wait for you in my dreams
Days blurring, mind drowning, lungs collapsing and colors fading.
Without you I have broken, I am in pieces,
You were my tether now I am weightless and I am gone.
Ma,
Leaping off the crown of a candle,
A hot bead without hold or handle,
Blobbed as us all on the bee-smell body of a star.
Air,
Shushing from the womb of her shell room,
The leant lung's slow snore looping her loom,
Muddled with the booze which bruised her peaceful as a pear.
Hands,
Holding normal knowings in knot-roots,
Splaying through the spokes of new cahoots,
All gusts must rust and turn to dust ~ as Felixstowe pebbles will wave to wax; fast towed, fed lights, we the festooned elixir of ocean-spanned sands.
Granny had osteoporosis
Her bones were brittle
They broke without her even
Falling down or touching something
She was always the one
Taking care of her family
Alive with encouragement
And wisdom that never failed
It came to the point in her life
When she had to have help
To go to the bathroom or take
A shower – even get dressed
Mama fed her favorite foods
Biscuits and gravy, fruit
The things she’d always known
Freshly grown and canned by her hands
Granny was nearly blind
She always sat in the same place
Waiting for her time
She was 89 that year
When her breathing stopped
And she left for her journey
To heaven – I cried for my loss
Because she was better off
Jesus came to get her
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