Pashmeena

When my Pashmeena got stuck in the broken net of the window of my Grandmother's house, I pulled whole of the long thread, for the rag cannot be knitted back clean. 

Pashmeena should not have scars.Pink rose in color, that Pashmeena was my grandmother's. She wore it to her daughter's wedding in december. December was snow all over the pavement of her house, with wazwan in the backyard. Her pink pashmeena stood against the fire cooking those delicacies.....

~Shafaq Shahid.

December

On a december night 

under those street lights

 where the white snow turns warm 

we ll dry my veil on the roadside 

and we ll sit there quite 

with the stars up high

 while they read the book 

I wrote every night 

One page at a time 

half a tear at a time 

I ll meet you there. 

~Shafaq Shahid

The fig and the fawn

Barefoot on the snow, 

as I walk a mile and a half

 and look around and stop, 

 I see a pavement by the shop, 

 where I sit and stay for long, 

I look up and sing a song, 

 I cry loud and see a fawn,

 from the world of dreams and death,

 "You are the prettiest I met."

He said and ate a fig, 

and gave me half of it,  

and took me in the cart, 

 to the land of figs and stars, 

 you could eat and look above,

 to the shooting stars and know, 

that you will wake up when you want,

 from the sleep of hope but ,

Can't. You can't sleep for long. 

For you can't hope for long, 

for you only hope for Him, 

to see you in the dream, 

 and lend you dreams of hope, 

and not break it when you grow, 

 Not break it when you grow. 

 I sit barefoot on the snow 

~Shafaq Shahid