Epiphany

by Zaina Anwar

I have inscribed
my desires

on Nature's breast
in letters

of burnished gold.
Now I know why

my reflection
in the quiet stream

is distorted
and crimson hued,

echoing the clang
of distant bells

and the ancient
lament

of the lonesome
sea.

The Rain

by Zaina Anwar

The wind
has spoken tonight.

Stars shudder
while the moon

has quietly
slipped away.

Soon, the sky
is swallowed

by savage clouds.
A thick film

of moisture
heavily clings

to every leaf
and languid root.

Children laugh,
their tiny feet

caked with sludge.
Through the streets

they run,
half naked

and oblivious
screaming,

'The rain has come,
the rain has come.'