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lotus children

Down in the bamboo shadow,
She turns up the soil. Wet.
It rained last night, filling her graves.

They float. Eyes open, peaceful,
Basking in the cloud cover.
They show off pictures of prophets.

In the image of the One.
She tries out a name,
Sighs out a prayer, a wish, a plea.

No answer. She didn't expect one.
She gives up on religion.
She knows they'll never come back.

It's much better, she reflects,
To fill in the holes
And let the innocents sleep.



© Marziya Mohammedali, 2001-2013