The women are sitting in a circle.
They are beating their breasts
with hennaed fists.
They are chanting and wailing for her.
"She is mourning the birth
of a stillborn child.
Her womb emptied too soon...
The child could not last,
the child had to die."
Over and over again they cry.
Their frightful refrain pierces the night air
until the sky itself recoils
in absolute fear.
"Leave her be!" her mother screams,
"My daughter has an iron soul.
Her heart beats to the clash
of her ancestors' mighty swords."
"She will wrap herself in the folds
of a long and weary night,
she will plead her case in the court
of a just and noble moon."
Hearing this the daughter,
as if jolted out of a long stupor,
looks towards her mother
and smiles.
Thereupon, with her head held high,
she turns and walks away
into the dark forest beyond.
Zaina Anwar 2010
23 comments:
Disturbing and thought provoking....the best kind of poetry.
Thank you, Charlotte.
Chaachijaan? Are you trying to tell us something?
Nooooooo. This is inspired by a story I read in the newspaper.
amazing! reads more like a short story, with great narrative!
keep it up!
and need ur comment on 'Sainthood' on my blog!
Moving.
Reminds me of so many things. Mostly, a poem by William Butler Yeats which has come to mean a lot to me.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Smita: Thank you for the lovely comments as usual. Yes, it does incline a bit towards prose. It didn't start out that way. I had to sacrifice poesy for the sake of narrative :) I'll be visiting your blog soon.
Jasmine: Such lovely lines from the great man. Suffering is a part and parcel of human existence. One just has to accept it. Thanks for dropping by.
Heartrending. Love and Light, Sender
Zaina,
This is a great poem - and plays with raw emotions.
The poem too is courageous. Did it write itself - or did you have control over it?
A powerful and moving piece of writing.
There's nothing like the loss of a child to make a person feel powerless in this world.
A touching moment between you and your mother. I would like my mum to say I had an iron soul!
I love the caring circle of women, too!
Powerful poem!
Pamela
the beginning of myth....this goddess of the forest...bkm
...Her heart beats to the clash
of her ancestors' mighty swords...
...Powerful words.
Very powerful, the stuff of myth. Love the strength in the daughter's eyes at her mother's words. So well written!
that's so sad.
heartfelt words.
Wonderfully written =P
A poem of strength and depth. Well written!
This is so sad but what I also get out of it is how the women support each other in that circle. Very good writing.
Thank you, everyone for the wonderful comments. Ninotaziz asked whether this poem wrote itself. Well, yes it did. All my poems come to me. Sometimes, after the poem is written in the first burst of inspiration, I snip away at the composition if necessary. But, mostly, the process is beyond my control.
Zaina this is an amazing poem...full of strength and the beauty of the human spirit! I can also relate with your burst of inspiration and how it works for you with your writing...sometimes it does seem as if the process is beyond my control. I truly love your writing Zaina! :-)
Thank you so much, Carrie.
Great narratives and imageries, a wonderful picture poem. As a mother, I'd like to imagine that a mother's love, her sheer will alone, could summon her daughter's life back.. thanks for sharing this, Zaina :)
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