A Little Too Late
Maryam Sakeenah
Father, you kept your promise
To bring my favourite biscuits,
From the coin you had discovered
In the pocket of the old coat
While scavenging in the rubble
Of our home in Gaza.
Sorry I broke your heart, father...
For I couldn't run to you
With that dimpled smile
And the twinkle in the eye
To grab that special treat
I had longed for
Since the bombs began...
But I am gone, father
To where there is no longing,
No fear, no pain,
Upwards and onwards
To the Divine embrace
Sweeter than the treat I awaited. ..
Hold on, father,
With the sweetness of faith,
Patience and hope...
I'll meet you on the other side
With the dimple and the twinkle
To claim this biscuit pack
You promised.
It'll taste sweeter then,
Taking away the bitterness
Of this unfair parting
Between a promise
And its fulfillment...
