Ali's Poem

Precious Heart!
Oh child of the Muse.
I adore you, your dreamy eyes
large limpid gazing at the eternity
from where you come
this eternity tunneling into a world of shadows
Us people -- mother, father, nani, nana
aunt, who fill your life,
whose life you fill
you chortle delighted at thoughts prancing
in the wilderness of your innocence
calling your stories to play, and we fumbling
in our linguistic sophistication
we guess confidently
what it is that you think,
we are mind readers you see.
Precious Heart,
you extend delicious hands
from your mouth to our faces
and smile like flowers blossoming
instantly in summer breezes
A sudden sound and you startle
look in all directions
make sense of this world of chaos
our world, now yours.
Precious Heart,
when your older but little sister
comes tumbling towards you, you gaze
with the serenity of lotus eyes
like puppies both your faces seemingly
roll in affection--So sweet! So pure!
So unaffected! Such tenderness.  
Such tenderness.  Transforms
time to a place beyond our world,
within it.  And we are transfixed.
Precious Heart,
that long scar that circles
your chest marks your strength
a courage so fine in one so little
You want to walk when
you haven't crawled; you want to
sing before you have talked; you
want to taste all flavours to know
the world and its languages.

You are a poet, little Ali, the scribe
of your mother's life, touching
upon the truth--your bloodlines.
_____