The Dervish Dancer

To abandonned and aborted children

You are now the whisper
That turns the leaves
With the Golden light of Twilight
You are the developed thought
Within the red light
Behind the closed eye of early morning
Remembering the loss of the night before
You exist within the space between my folded arms
And in my heart...I feel the emptiness and loss
Dear child...you are not forgotten
There are many mornings waiting for you
A resurrection behind ongoing violet hills
Many other children to play with...songs to be sung
Myriads of green fields to run...filled with stars
Endless angelic hands to cradle you
You are the tears that God has wept
Which reflect in each drop...His light
A rainbow after the rain...a rebirth
Refreshing...water after thirst

Tania and I

Me and my beautiful daughter
tania...who I have a beautiful relationship with

Addies and Tropa’s wedding

You stand together
The threshold of your future
Before the great sea of Words
Eternity
Going back to the Source
Jungles within oceans
Corrals,,,Waterlilies
Tangled roots of Generations
Of fathers encircling around your hearts
Webs holding you together
As you both venture forth
To the dawn of many mornings
Tenderness twines around both of you
Giving you the love and strength
To sacrifice for each other
To live for the happiness of each other
Hold each other sacred
Within the inner temple of your hearts
Loving only each other passionately

Build your house facing the Light
Of a strong foundation
Of compassion and kindness
Not to be washed out by the sea
But build your walls strong
With patience, compassion, empathy and the All-forgiving
To be able to overcome any obsticle
Firmly rooted in the sand
So that it can withstand anything
Any storm….any wind
Bare your souls to God
That no matter what difficulties
He will bring you peace of mind
Always look at each other
No matter how old you become
Like the day you first laid your eyes
On each other
The day you fell in love…and always every day
You will love each other more
And you will never see
The person grow older..
They will grow more beautiful
Because your love makes
Your Beloved more beautiful

Lilies at Twilight

The lily pads are purple to reflect the setting sun. The water is orange and gold to reflect the last rays of the sun. I was inspired by Monet’s water lilies and wanted to try my own rendition. The water lily is the national flower of Bangladesh.

No More War!

The woman sings in her kitchen
Children play outside before dinner
Husbands come home from work...tired
Some from fields, factories or office
Strikes up a conversation with his wife
Gathers his children in his arms
As they sit and eat together
All beneath a late afternoon sun
Which shines on us all
The sun does not discriminate

But now silence...
Except for bombs
Beneath the sun
Lies makeshift graves
Of men who will never come home again
Children who will never again to feel his arms
Widows will wail instead of sing
No longer a kitchen...no longer a Home
Children and women unprotected
Just to disease and hunger
Nameless...faceless
As if it were a mistake to be born

It could be Palestine, Iraq, Afghanistan, Kashmir
Places we once called Home
Burned beyond recognition

When we will pass away
There will be no color to identify ourselves
There will only be One Reality
Our feet and hands will speak
Bear witness
To what we have done to our fellow man

The Magnolia Tree

The Magnolia Tree

Here lies my daughter in my arms
Another child lies dying
Because of war
In her mother's arms
While the world
Trembles aggressively
Yet, still the magnolias
Sway calmly unaware
With the confines of my garden
As the seasons casually unfolds themselves
Since I was a child
I am tired of watching these pages turn
My time a routine...cut into sections
Watching my face grow older
Not keeping my youthful promises

Here lies my daughter in my arms
Watching in fascination
The magnolias so unearthly pink
Bloom so fully within a week
To her a week is endless
But to this week will be unnoticed by me
Where is my cause...my duty
To be blinded by the mundane
I want to so much take these dying children home
Claim the homeless...feed the starving
Rock them in my arms at night
Empathize with their mother's grief
Realize their small lives

Here lies my daughter in my arms
The wind has blown at the end of the week
The now rotting blossoms
To the ground
She notices....asks why they have fallen
Yes...child, another spring has passed
The world is unsafe...and I am helpless
I feel that I can do nothing