Not Heard

by nourayasmine   Sep 10, 2019

I don't usually pray.

But tonight, the hospital was crowded
with begging eyes. The bomb wasn't
as heavy as we feared, but nor was its
victim. The 26.4 pound angel needed
two bags of blood.

I never pray.

While he was in the ER, I imagined his body,

the tiny lines behind his
neck where the skin smells of holiness.

I imagined him on the beach, playing
with sand, laughing to the sun.
I imagined him at school, pronouncing
a long word for the first time, learning to tie
his shoes, waving keenly at his parents
on a school event day.

Couldn't god imagine this with me?
How could it even be possible to think that
he might get under the ground, that his eyes
might dry out, that his lungs might rot,
that his pulse might lose its way?
In that moment, my lips didn't move,
my eyes were focused on the ER door,

my whole body shouted with prayer,
except for my tongue.


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Latest Comments

  • 1 month ago

    by Michael

    So very sad, but so well written and well done, M

  • 1 month ago

    by silvershoes

    Gut-wrenching and powerful.

  • 1 month ago

    by Glenn Gay

    This is a beautiful piece. No innocent people should ever be caught in the ignorance of someone else's stupidity and violence.

  • 1 month ago

    by Lost One

    I can't really put to words the emotions this stirred in me.

  • 1 month ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    Oh, Noura. Chills all over.

    There are few words to descibe the overwhelming emotion of imagining a child no longer guaranteed a future, when "why?" is never answered time and time again. And prayer is rendered useless but your body is crying out for some exception, for some relief for this little one.

    My heart, dear Noura... my heart cannot imagine. I am so sorry that you and so many others CAN imagine this and see it with your very eyes and feel it with every bone in your body.

    I'm so sorry <3

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