Week 3, September 2023
The Subtle beauty of Death
By Unaisah Saeed 22nd September 2023,
Molded from clay—
by Him we were made
and to Him we return.
None other than Him knows the day
when our soul will depart from this world.
It is for the peace of our minds
that we do not know.
We bathe the body,
now separate from its soul
and adorn it with a white cloth.
No makeup, no jewelry—no covering up God’s creation,
for we entered this world with nothing
and that is how we will leave it.
We return to him bare—
just as we, into this world, were brought,
for there is no hiding from God.
The riches we accumulated in this world are mere nothing in front of Him.
We gather for the sake of the passed soul
to make dua—prayer—for them.
the three-lettered word that evokes such
It is for all—
the ones lost and the ones left behind.
Dua is a gift from God.
Death is not to be feared.
It is the natural end to the cycle of life.
Death is inevitable,
for it would be too painful to live in this world forever,
and this God knows.
Death is a passing so that
inshaAllah, you may pass the skies and reach Jannah.
Do not fear death—
grieve the passed,
make dua for them,
and move on.
Poems by Jennifer Gurney , 21st September 2023
grief knocks on our heart
and opens wide
a lifetime of loss
in the distance
pealing one by one
church bells toll
in the gloaming
gold orb kisses horizon
Lost & Found
By Paris Campbell 20th September 2023
It was after the after
of Vietnam that we fell
into a marriage that ran swiftly downstream
into gutters I remembered
from my childhood.
A dead bird sometimes.
The pile grew til it toppled.
I wanted a songbird lullaby.
You wanted to be left alone.
You got your wish five years later.
You got it again ten years ago
when the wind carried your ashes
across other rooftops, stirring the birds
out of their sleep to sing.
Poems by Ram Chandran 19th September 2023
path full of
a driftwood -
finally settled in my life
evening sky -
a circling eagle
just above the setting sun
She could be dead
By Amita Sarjit Ahluwalia 18th September 2023
She could be dead for all I know or most grievously hurt
She could be most seriously ill or in a nursing home
She could be off on holiday caravanning in Spain
She could be quite oblivious or she could be in pain
Why should anyone care at all who are not next of kin ?
Why should anyone let the thought get underneath their skin ?
Why should her friends be told why she often just disappears ?
Why not pretend nothing went wrong if she again appears ?
Is this what modern life modern culture is all about ?
If somebody is drowning why can’t they just shout out ?
The day will come if it has not when she will really die
But who will tell me if I’m there that it is time to cry ?
That it is time to pay tribute and it is time to pray ?
And know she’ll never hear again anything I may say ?
For as I have already said she could by now be dead
And no one told me so I know nothing , but live in dread
She really could be dead. I do hope not - but how’d I know
If no one tells me for she’s old and has been quite unwell
I’m far away I cannot go to see her folks don’t tell
I did ask them before and I can’t ask them yet again
For she was quite alright before and they think I’m a pain
Asking again and yet again every six months or so
But she does disappear and it’s too far for me to go
She is not answering phone calls messages or mails
And what can one do when normal communication fails
With people who are old and ill and living all alone
And sometimes out of depression do not pick up the phone
Perhaps my thoughts are morbid or I am thinking ahead
But I simply cannot get this thoughtworm out of my head
She could be dead.
Biographies of Poets
Unaisah Saeed is a Pakistani-American high schooler who loves writing, making art, and spending time with family and friends. When she’s having a bad day, counting her blessings and eating good food is enough to cheer her up. She loves her high school creative writing class and hopes to continue improving her writing.
Jennifer Gurney lives in Colorado where she teaches, paints, writes and hikes. She is a newly published poet, at age 59, with over 160 poems in print thus far. Jennifer has also published commentary about poetry. During the pandemic she joined the online poetry community of The Daily Haiku.