And yet how gentle it seems to one raised in a landscape short of rain

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The sky is dishwater brown with scrunched up clouds,
like a fallow heart
its light is lean almost discreet as it serves as witness to a world
doubly glazed
and dampened by the passing shadows,
we speak with fire upon our tongues letting go of things we keep
between our teeth
we spill blood in the dark locked behind the sun before dusk.

Describing the air is my soul halved
why must we meld our skin with scraps of things we can never become?
Come cut me like one does a beetroot
I work well with earthy flavours of celeriac and parsnip
the world as we know it is as moisture evaporated, the fibers
a tight-knit, papyrus like surface that can be bleached or stained
with bitter fruit politics,
the mind is a powerful weapon with no remorse.

And not a sigh escapes my lips nor breath mingles with joy
I gaze no more upon golden trees with sun-kissed leaves
why must we hunger for control when so many lives are lost in the process?
Clinging to life is hope
I clutch my chest at the thought of dreams inside a coffin
my pen writes of destruction around the globe.

A prayer was mouthed last night in the fading sound and light
come rise with me
I think of innocents and die with despair growing inside
Poetry cannot be weak at this time
a hilted moon hangs overhead watching the landscape
as night soaked with determination walks me home
I have found everything that I need to make a difference within myself,
this August let us reach out for those who need us
the sky is dishwater brown with scrunched up clouds
but my heart is reluctant to give up.



Photo credits: Darren Crowley, Pinterest

Posted on Sunday Mini-Challenge @ Real Toads

& Posted on the Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

48 Replies to “And yet how gentle it seems to one raised in a landscape short of rain”

  1. Ah, those last two lines are like a balm to my soul. I love the strong images that ground this piece and how their are paired with a determined sort of hopefulness.

  2. I really like the refrain of the dishwater sky as part of the opening and closing couplets, with the positive resolve in the second to wrap your piece here Sanaa. Excellent write!

  3. What a strong piece you have written here Sanaa. There is so much in this world that is so wrong, where hate is engendered and suspicion like a breeze blowing through our windows. You really do write so well.

  4. This is beautiful–the gasps and catches in the phrasing, the image of a “hilted moon” and that ending, the threat and the gathering all at once. You’ve captured the exhaustion of an overwhelming flow of news and vivified resistance to that exhaustion.

  5. The sky described a dishwater leaves a strong image. I have hope that this dirtiness that has accumulated can be released so fresh water can once again flow. A powerful message in your

  6. You always find ways t add interesting way to your poetry. The phrase “fallow heart” conjures such powerful images, such ideas… May we take our best seeds into any “fallow heart” that allows us to garden their soil.

  7. A nice mixture of our muddied world, bonded precariously by hope. Yes, there will be poets making a difference, not many will get press and only a few will be noted as period writers. A perpetual cause as the writers main theme also to get press.

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