The footprints you left in the
Forest won’t disappear, they’ve
Hardened the soil beneath them,
The soil will not let them go until
We make a map out of them and
Find you and when we have we’ll
Water the soil slowly and grow
Trees strong and thick enough that we
Don’t have any footprints there, again.
The nightmares of your contrived sleep
Has haunted the devi (god) of the temple, her home
Doesn’t seem to have enough peace for you, she’s
Roaming around searching for a home that does,
She can’t seem to find it yet but when
She does, she’ll take you there so no one
Has to leave a temple hopeless.
They pierced your innocence with
Blunt knives, they braided your veins in
Knots that we can’t undo now, but we’ll find
A way to build your spirit, slowly in our own
Little ways, perhaps by tearing their souls apart
Until they give you back the pieces they stole
From you.
We won’t let them turn you into newspaper
Headlines that can be folded, we’ll turn you into
Words that echo until you’re satisfied and then
You’ll be a song that has music to accompany it,
So we can remember you as the child you are,
Without wrapping you in melancholy.
You’ll stay here until we have enough to let you go,
Until we find a gravestone strong enough to hold the
Name “Asifa”, until we find sufficient soil to cover you,
Until we find a creed to give you solace.
–Hafsa Mukhtar
