Before the sun sets on the other world
Minutes accumulate on my cell phone
Pleading reassurance
That all are alive
And I am missed, by some
Before the sun sets on the other world,
The words reach out to grasp the warmth
Of the going rays
In ways
Only the East can spell
Minutes and time zones
Love disperses amongst the lines of
Missed emotions
And longing
Fingers betray the anguish
As phone handles quiver in their grasp
One last word, Mama
Hear me
I love you.
Did you know that, recently?
And who’s home and who has broken their fast and prayed for me?
And who missed the last car bomb and made it to the Iftar table?
Who smiled at God’s food and then shed a tear for all the empty tables?
Minutes are money…the corporations know and say that…
For them, the wars and the empty dishes…
For them, we work on working your future Iftars to ashes...
Was that my brother’s voice behind you?
Does he remember my name?
I have changed…but not my name…
Names are constant
Love is constant and so is sibling tension
Cell phone minutes are not.
Tell him I love him.
I have a minute to tell him I love him.
I have all the minutes the corporate world can steal
to hear him tell me
He loves me.
