Like a Pomegranate

Everything has its own taste—even water.
The taste of human rights is like a pomegranate that
cures people from sickness. And it
tastes like a salt that adds flavor to a recipe.

My soul is happy on this day.
I want myself to be seen like an eagle
flying over the mountain and
touching the sky while my eyes watch
everything on earth.

I want to see my country free of war.
I want to see my country free of the people who
ignore women’s speech.

By Aisha K.


Comments

  1. Elizabeth Titus says:

    Dearest Aisha,
    Thank you, thank you for this lovely poem, filled with vivid imagery and powerful words!
    I, too, want to see your country free of war, with women freed from their shackles.
    Liz

  2. Well done, Aisha. I wanted to immediately type: I love the first line! But then I read the second line–I loved that, too. Then I finished the first stanza, and was like, wow, that’s really great. Then I finished the poem and smiled. Elizabeth is right: this poem is full of vivid images and powerful words. I loved how you used the senses here. I won’t forget the pomegranate, the salt, nor the water. Beautiful work.

  3. Dear Aisha, I loved how this poem made me feel, the tang of pomegranate, the sharpness of salt, even appreciating the flavour of water – something that many people may take for granted unless they’ve been without. I loved the sense of space in the second stanza, I could the sun warm on my back and smell the mountain air. It was a wonderful evocation of freedom, which led so nicely into the last lines. Thank you for sharing!

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