My spirit is in tatters
I throw crumpled pages and mess up the floor
Still I can't wrap up the train of my thoughts,
Without penning a line my mind falls apart.
Addicted to the satellite channels
I'm pasted to the TV and dawdle over my meals,
I contravene my culture and I'm in the wrong.
At the foggy winter dawn night's mood lingers
I'm cold and my body curls up into a ball;
Feeling extremely frostbitten
Like hikers who may freeze to death
I could never be a Hillary or Tenzing.
My nature feels anarchical
When the sun rises above the horizon,
My heart withers inside out when I see
A nest swaying on a narrow bough;
In quest of a totality my heart beats.
Rubab Abdullah lives in Ohio, USA