Visit me, my friends,
in my permanent prison.
Can you believe that I am a criminal?
My crime: Telling the truth.
My heart is a library of stories.
Borrow a story. Empty my shelves.
Read every one of me. Judge me
by my poems. Ask me your questions.
Talk to me.
I am an Afghan woman,
a soldier with no weapon,
a woman, with closed lips,
hidden under night
behind dark curtains.
There are no friends here.
No home is safe.
In my heart’s cage, though,
I will not be silent.
I smell freedom.
I will write poems and stories,
even if they remain unread here.
My pen has blue wings.
My soul is a city of love
and forgiveness. I am a garden
of words. The sparrows are my poems.
Come, my friends!
Visit me in my cage.
I welcome you
To this, my permanent prison.
Photo of song sparrow by Kenneth Cole Schneider
This is a stunning, stunning poem, N. Every line–ah, there are no wasted words here. You are saying it, and you are saying it with beauty, love, and power. We know your soul is a city of love and forgiveness for you show us in your writing. Brava, N. Thank you for all you to do to open our eyes and hearts. Stacy
Your writing is breathtakingly beautiful, N. Please continue to share what is in your heart.
Blown away by this, N. You are no caged bird. Your poems are sparrows. Your words set you free.
I am so amazed by every beautiful word you write. You speak truth and beauty. Thank you for sharing your heart.