By Sidra Farhang
The day she was born
They wrapped her in cloth
And handed her to me
Still warm with her God.
.
She opened her eyes
Full of wonder and light
A drop from the heavens
For this worldly sight.
.
She took her first steps
With trembling feet
She stumbled and fell
but I caught her
In a heartbeat.
.
She held my hand firm
With her tiny soft hand
Nervous yet excited
To learn of this land.
.
But this world was unkind
With no mercy to spare
With its bombs and its snipers
Its screaming metal
Splitting the air.
.
Her once lovely eyes
Fell heavy and worn
As she watched the sky burn
Her little world torn.
.
She learnt how to walk
Again, but through bones
Scattered on her path
Like petals and stones.
.
She learnt to let go
Of her father’s great hand
Leaving mine empty
For burdens that stand.
.
I lost her in all this
In the rubble and dust
Her little body lost
In this world I don’t trust.
.
I still feel her hand
Fit perfectly in mine
Soft and unscathed
But missing in time.
.
And through all this wreck
I picked up each stone
And lifted the debris
And searched for her bones.
.
Collecting her remains
Piece by piece
To make up that tiny hand
I never should have released.
.
As I pushed through the remnants
With her clattering bones
I found that same cloth
underneath one wicked stone.
.
I tugged at the stone
And lifted the cloth
And wrapped my little girl
In the warmth of her God.
.
I dug a hole deep
Into the ground
With empty bare hands
Not making a sound.
.
I lowered my girl
And gave her to the earth
Kissing the cloth
For all it was worth.
