Eternity. . .
By Fatimah Z. S.
The cold i am huddled in
in this white winter garden i stand alone
the ice breaks and cracks (my limbs?)
Hear it whistle
The sweet spring breeze

Here it in the winter
(none but shadows i see)
   shadows of the spring
                             The bright Red
                                                        the red
                                                                  the faint red
                                                                                       the g l i m m e r

                                                                                                                      No Red.

 Here come the whistles

But spring is gone
                   the Guelder is here
                       the primroses have died

decayed and decomposed?

trudge through the hardened grass (and through the chill)
following the path into the cave—
                   the spring breeze
                                       WEE       WEE
but no more can it woo me
           until I saw the Chrysanthemum
                        germinating from delicate roots
                                                           perfervid limbs
                        I cried 😉



Each of us come face to face with many obstacles in our path; some become so prominent, we feel as though we are trapped in a glass box, and looking at our nightmares without having the power to change them. My grandma and the many other elderly in my life, have these “glass box” moments due to their age. Their youth is gone, their physical strength, but I want to remind them of one thing that can never be truly lost, only forgotten, hope. There is always a chance through the darkness, and it comes in many forms, like the chrysanthemum. However, everyone of all ages face troubles, face obstacles hindering success. For example, the many terror attacks going on, effect me as a practitioner of the peaceful and very  wrongly stereotyped religion as well as the families who have been killed but will never be forgotten. But, we must not let this define us, and we must persevere and find the courage which will allow us to mold our own reality through HOPE.


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