Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Convalescence--By Sheikha A.--Pakistan and U.A.E


It isn't the first time the azaan wakes
me from a dream. People who are
haunted don't live around flower-leafed
trees. The few minutes before waking
I dreamt of long black curls flowing down
a hard spine. The hours of sunset are
an enduring wait. But, always, in the second
of opening the eyes, time is approachable;
the undermined sounds of life speak
the truth about the rewards of the light.
We grow a shadow for the sun to shine on,
there is no illness defined by limitations
which won't eat figs of labours. I, who
grows like the cestrum, lets the warmth
of hope find my core to fill it with continuality.

(Note: Azaan is the Muslim call for prayer.)

Sheikha A. is from Pakistan and U.A.E. and often finds herself in a world of oscillation that most of the times motivates her writing too. She maintains a (or tries to) blog on  


  1. Dear Sheikha,
    Thank you for this unique poem--truly appreciate your positive approach.

  2. Sheikha...just what I needed today! Thank you.

  3. Nice one, Sheikha. Thank you for sharing and continued blessings!

    -MJ (

  4. Sheikha,
    Good poem, but I have never heard the word cestrum. What does it mean?
    Your friend,
    David Fox

    1. David, nor had I! We recently took a flower pot (or in fact a plant pod not knowing what it was), and began watering it only to, one day, see a tuft of cestrum nocturnum (night blooming jasmines) had grown from it! These flowers unfortunately don't survive more than just a couple of days max. They grow only at nights, and tend to shed their petals within a few days.

  5. Dear Sheikha,
    I read your understanding of cestrum above, cool. Your Coverage
    of title "Convalescence" is supurb, and I loved your ending.

    1. Yancy, thanks so much for stopping by and reading! =)