*
As I responded to her (*) remark
her eyes twinkled -I could see-
as her lips curled in a cheeky smile
her pen whispered on the paper
replying that even at my age
I could father -children still an option-
Ah, and I could not help but gently
-dear one- smile at that tease
Yet where I still do love -to love-
my answer came across as strict
saying, I could not burden my soul
with offspring -being destined the last-
And she fell silent perhaps hurt, sad
maybe mad -put down her pen-
where I meant no insult nor disgrace
She turned away and I traveled
again to the origins of time and back
not clarifying my gentle rebuttal
For dear one -wife lover mother sister-
me in Time's beginning having seen
this, the children of Gaza, suffering
wounded -long before many others-
These final years, she and that sight
of once made me speak from the core
my soul cannot burden any children
And as she -now a grandmother- sees
and senses all the world's hardship
of birthing even just one more newborn
Perhaps she understands this burden
to carry -weighing scarring the soul-
this rose that never came to life
her name Gaza -from the beginning-
mindlessly mindful so perceptive
the All-Merciful blesses her in stillness
*
© 2024-01-13
(*) her = a well educated Egyptian poetess living with her children and grandchildren in Cairo.
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