Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










I HOLD A PRAYER OF THORNS IN MY PALMS by Waqas Khwaja

I
 
i hold a prayer of thorns in my palms 
closing my fingers around it
sighs my mother
as i turn to go
 
leaves of shut doors 
sliced stealthily top to bottom
by glimmering swords of light
open one by one 
to a vanishing dawn
 
i leave without looking back 
even once
 
a little i see of you 
she murmurs to herself
but mostly it is a haze of daybreak dust 
my task for life is now set
 
with a single thread 
spun from the boll of parting
i will forever draw 
in a pitcher of unbaked clay
sorrow from the eye
of the deepest well
 
II
 
and i thought i will tell them this story 
divert their attention
while i take my time to
settle myself in exile
waking up every morning 
to what i cannot hate 
or fall in love with 
 
but we shall all die 
singing of unbelonging
and a new world will be born 
we shall all die
and a new world will be born
singing of unbelonging
 
 

 

 

WAQAS KHWAJA