My Blessings

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

Beaten-up, abused

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

my blessings.


Author: Heba


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