this

16Oct08

did not turn out the way i wanted. i’m not pleased with it. but i had to stop sitting on it.

When we imagined and played in the spare room

Hearing dada’s footsteps, we hid underneath the bed

His large shoes confronted our tiny heads

And your hand confronted my tiny heart

It’s to touch the palm of your hand again

To feel the warmth of your clay

The hand which you now hide in your pocket

You and I have changed

 

When the nine of us took over the rooftop

And the boys took over the kite

Your eyes would find mine still

And hold them as you released your prize into the wind

It’s to hold that gaze with your small beady eyes

To know God really is watching me

But now you refuse to look back at Him

You and I have changed

 

When you helped me pin my dupata

So that I could make my prayers

Pretending to watch dramas with phupo

Counting my sijdas underneath your breath

It’s too hear the rythm of your voice again

The soothing waves of your breath

The breath from which your dhikr now begins

You and I have changed

 

When I look at you now, I am taken back

To all the stories of our childhood

And no matter how close we came, you were slipping away

Maybe I should have accepted where you stood

But if trembles you still, makes you lose your footing

I will say it with conviction again

I love you and always will

But you and I have changed

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