True Colours

A Poem

By Shameelah Khan

 


A car became a home

for two broken souls

for one minute

I bathed in the sound

of his meditation

my gaze moved to the direction

of his sky

that looked like a mirror

Father- Father

hold my tears in your hands

and gesture my departure

of rain-bows

and women set alight

in front of their babies

and the maybes of love

I so often harbour

Father-Father

here sits your daughter

immobile to her possibilities

like the giant trees that are marked with age

you have caged my feminine- spirit

with your love and merit

so that in front of me are the lines of my life

like renaissance paintings marking a body

travelling as broken souls do

Father-Father

my journey has been painful

childhood was a dusty library

for books that held stories of memory

within me,

Father-Father

this world made me crazy

but beside me

is a human of true colour

shining through the mirror,

he sees someone

that you have tainted

as un-free

and suddenly

Father-Father

I want those colours of mine to be

but then I remember

all of your paintings of my mother and nature

and that is why I am a sculptor

to re-structure the lives of the other

Father-Father

I think I like the idea

of Wintery nights beside the fire,

in his hand, a cold beer

a home lived without fear

of the unknown

a home lived less alone

the sounds of Sade and Chapman

we are dancing

inside the walls, there is art

Father-Father

you have broken my heart

But I have to remind myself that God still calls

And God is first

but my God is not his Church

and what is worse

is that in all of my prayer

I stare into this mirror

layer upon layer

I see my mother

and my truest colours

wither

Father-Father

A car became a home

for two broken souls

for one minute

I bathed in the sound

of his meditation

my gaze moved to the direction

of his sky

that looked like a mirror

of my lies

Father-Father

there is an entire world inside her

let him listen

to the sound of those cries

because there lies,

tucked in between the sacred

her truest eyes

the bluest green

out beyond that field

where colours are the sky above

Father-Father

where colours are the mirror of their God’s

love

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