We are thrilled to debut a brand new writer with us on the website, we hope you enjoy Heba‘s debut piece “My Blessings”
I lie astonished in my crowded mind
Wondering if I’ve earned what I’ve gained
And my thoughts question why they’ve been made blind
To what my conscience has failed to explain
Do I deserve the sun that’s soaked it’s way into my skin
The sky that always gives me something new to see
The earth that walks beneath my feet as I tread my path
The trees whose roots have become a part of me?
Do I deserve the water that flows through my veins
The oxygen that I can’t help but inhale
The food whose absence
Would leave me hopelessly pale?
Do I deserve the family
That assails me with affection
I turn away, they point the way
To the right direction
I give them drizzles,
They give me showers
I wait on them minutes,
They stand by me for hours
They’d hold me by the hand and curl my fingers round their trust
If the waves get rough they’d teach me
how to make my sails adjust
Do I deserve my asylum of safety, living with no harm
As children elsewhere bite their skins to stay warm
They wriggle their toes on bleak, clammy streets
As I snuggle up in my hospitable sheets
Do I deserve the body parts
That I have more than once misused
That lie broken in a corner
The lips whose words refused to fight
The eyes that only see things black and white
The ears that have only heard what they wanted to hear
The nose that could catch only the fragrance of fear
The senses to which I had a duty to
broken promises that I failed to carry through..
I have too often carried in my chest
Complaints that never cease to rest
Accusing, whining, moaning
Negligant to the true meaning of “blessed”
God, do I deserve to complain?
About the afflictions that haven’t caused me pain?
about the mountains of gifts and glories you’ve bestowed
That can’t be appreciated by my limited brain?
Honey, you’ve been living in heaven
All the while thinking you’ve been inhibiting hell
Thinking, wondering, contemplating why
You haven’t got it so well.
It’s not the things around you
It’s the feelings you’ve got inside
The thank yous that have worn out, the gratitude that has died,
The bitter, revolting, distasteful
Obnoxious feeling of pride.
God, how can I thank you
If billions of thank yous will not amount
to the blessings I see and feel everyday
That I could not possibly count?
God, help me admit, help me to feel,
The strength of the rewards I often conceal,
God, help me deserve