by Dana Zeghib
Who can handle the lost sight of their daughters and sons?
Why is death pulling us towards its tide?
Is this the consequence of where we come from?
My rose, it is not your fault
They are a dark curse that’s in the way of our bright backgrounds/futures
We are slowly transcending into their silhouettesÂ
Hoping for matters to change feels like journeying towards a mirageÂ
When will the desert end?
My rose, you are the light at the end of my tunnel
You are the ocean wave that polishes my pebbles
If I do not return,
Do not let our daughters be filled with concerns
I fear I won’t live to see their weddings and achievementsÂ
But my presence will be marked even without an invitation
For my soul will always be with you
No matter when my death is due
My rose, even in my last moments,
Before I find solace in my final rest,
Our memories hover at the edge of my remembrance
The mere thought of you defies death’s breath
And if we’re but numbers in the world’s cold rhyme,
My rose, you’ll always be my number one, through space and time
© Dana Zeghib 2024-03-10