In what is becoming an annual tradition, this is my latest attempt at poetry/prose/vignette inspired by the events of Karbala. For last year’s poem, click here. For an explanation of the events of Karbala, click here.

We Don’t Sleep…

The wind that blows through the Walled City’s dusty ramshackle lanes

The tears that wash the pavement of the dust

The fallen petals whose beauty belies the heartbreak

The passion that flows in the veins of faithful

And pulsates with each heartfelt beat

Will the earth accept our humanity, the viscous drops in the sand

The rejection of finality – that which cannot be the end

But we carry on, we maintain, we remember

Nothing is forever, so we stay alive, either in being or in memory

We don’t sleep…