This I Believe To Be True

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that you & I will be wrapped in a shroud the color of snow
and musk made of honeysuckles or jasmines with
what I hope are the soft and skilled hands of the ones we love,
that we will find ourselves nestled in the curves of the earth caked
with clay and pebbles and mud,

that my father has already tried to buy a plot of land
beside my mother and his own, but really,
who is to say we will not find ourselves across foreign oceans,
and that once fond land might grow moss over a stranger’s body,
this I already know,

that tongues will forget how to inflect and call upon our full names,
that we will be mere memories fading
like fog and fingerprints on icy mirrors,
that we all hope to leave behind legacies glowing
like light streaming through stained glass, but sometimes we are just smudges,
this, I know,

that I have seen the way peonies invite ants to crawl over their bulbs
closed like clenched fists, letting them nibble on their sticky nectar
to be rewarded with soft unfurling petals like opened palms,
that perhaps if we, too, feed drops of crystalized honey
to the tiniest of bellies it will be this humble of a deed
which cracks us open from selfish shells bringing us sweet salvation,
this, I believe

that in the darkness of the night there are colors and faces of moonlight
which I no longer see when my lids are lifted,
that I heard of mothers whose children visit in their dreams
after slipping out of their wombs and this world,
they console in smiling steady whispers,
and so what awaits ahead must be worth waiting for.

this I believe
that I do not know the exact hows or whens but
that when we reach there, the roaring pain
arching like tsunami waves will finally settle and
the rumblings of worry will cease,
and our hearts will feel quiet and still after a long, long time,
that when you & I meet again it will be a blessed reunion
stretching further than the seven seas, stretching to forever and
this I know to be true

Jaweerya Mohammad is a first-generation Pakistani-American. She is a passionate educator, teaching Middle School English in New Jersey. She graduated from Rutgers University with a Bachelors in English and Masters in Education. Her writing is inspired by childhood memories, her culture, nature, spirituality, healing, and grief. When she is not writing, she can be found reading, gardening, and spending time with her family.


  1. Aabid Shivji Reply

    “that in the darkness of the night there are colors and faces of moonlight
    which I no longer see when my lids are lifted”

    just pure oof

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