Spring's Child

Blessed

Rain lashed against glass, flattering drops drizzle down her window.

But she didn't stopped, strokes of pink and grey, brush sliding on her canvas, soon flashing portrayal of her first born.

She have seen him once, that was enough.

Yousuf.

Thunder roaded, cracking the murky sky, perhaps lamenting for dying winter.

Winter heaved it's last breath, passing soul to infant spring, Last year was the day, when She was blessed with a child, gone was the bump on her stomach, her heavy weight and slow stride.

So dispersed her smiles, shimmering joy in her orbs, laughter and quarrels, shared with her soulmate, over his names and future that they laid. 

A sculpture of bones and skin, No life, no soul.

Closed eyes,  pale scrubed skin, thin as white sheets, cubby cheeks.

She had glanced once, but He had cradled him in his strong arms, layered him with feather kisses, lips on his tiny feet, palms, face. Chanting his names, sobbing sweet dreams he had built.

He cried for hours, weeks and months, tear trickling down, staining his cheeks, red covered white, his eyes remained glossy. 

For He had lost his son in awake of spring, 

But she neither shed drops, nor wailed a cry

The dead doesn't speak nor had a right to weep.

°•°•°•°•°

She clutched her flat belly, womb deprived of heartbeat, no kicks, no movements, or presence of life,

Her rage raised, nail digging,  ripping her skin.

A knock on door, she covered her skin, he walked in, sitting next to her.

He smile,

She couldn't,

She wasn't brave, wasn't mould that way.

"I already have you, I don't need a child." He whispered, but his stuttered words were as broken as his heart.

"Is it because I am black,"

Hazel met almond,

"or - or that I don't have a mom. Why - why didn't Allah give me a child."

She loathed herself.

He embraced her, shielding her from painfull spring whizzes.

"He had blessed once, he will bless again." If words drip, then his dripped with grief.

"How, I can't - can't con - conceive--" she drenched his shirt with salted liquid.

"Shh" hands rubbing her back,

Glistening eyes, aching throat, jaws set fixed, with gasping hole burrowing their hearts, two shattered souls consoled each other.

"He knows the best,"

His words laid heavy on her chest, and louder she wailed.

°•°•°•°•°

Abandoned Streets were yet to be graced by beames of sun.

When she saw a suspicious shadow swiftly moving toward dustbin, discarding a lump of white cloth, returning to darkness. 

Fear settled in her bones, she shivered from anticipating thoughts running wild in her brain.

Bomb

She ran, descending staircase, bumping into him, she didn't apologise, neither listened his calls.

Down the street she flee, huffing, bending on her knees, as she reached, her breath hitched when she heard a wail.

She caught from trash, the lamp of white sheets, dimples across her cheeks.

"Sarah!" His breathless voice.

She turned, facing him.

"Ali, We have been blessed,"

In her hands, she holds a crying infant, body smeared with blood.

°•°•°•°•°

-V.A

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