Illusions and Realities
Sweeping robes
touched by the savage wind
fan out behind their delicate frames
each entity
stands statue still
and the ocean crests caress their footsteps
forming imprints in the wet, sandy harbor
Their eyes scan the waves
foam-topped, whipped to a fierce froth
echoing the frothy, unending walls of the accepted
lives churned up, lives pulled down
The laden, hardened figures stir
as their hands pull wind-swept hair, wind-swept dreams
shoulders stiffen, pull back,
ready to take up a stance
against rampaging nature
against mandated norms
And the spirits of ancestors join in,
their voices, cries, histories
unearthed from the oceans of forgetfulness
onto shores of reality,
as the new era breaks the bonds of normalcy
and the generations join.
They come from whole homes, broken homes,
homes teeming with bakhoor, and broken-down shacks
along cracked borders, against rough rocks
gazing out at nature unbound
The bonds of perceived lives fall
on scattered, shattered shells
beneath emboldened sure footfalls
The robes flutter and sweep forth
as the figures of past and present
breath in the scent of release 
Contributor’s notes : Nimah Ismail Nawwab
One Poet’s Story
Freedom Writers
Illusions and Realities