Daughters to Ourselves

Written by Sheniz Janmohamed

Seven stances against silence—

 

your hands
blessing,
offering,
dispelling
asserting
demanding
recalling
retreating.

 

soft drapes of crimson curve your face,

paradise gardens dot your skin.

 

We are sisters, you & I

Daughters of windswept deserts, where watery light plays

tricks on travellers

where shadows know our names even

in silence.

 

I peer into you

the way I search for

a semblance of myself

in this warped glass of time.

 

They say there is a veil between us

but this chador is a door

into a deeper knowing

 

our hands have known these beads before

they were strung—

inheritances stitching themselves

into flowers that

 

bloom

Pale yellow

stars

lined

with threaded

gold

 

 

follow the hemlines to

wild tulips, jasmine, markhor

 

the scent of deodars winding its

way into the fabric

of our present—

 

presence

  

 

I will bring

pipal leaves, acacia, armfuls of desert grass

 

Let’s weave a tapestry

of our kinfolk to line the

walls of our hearts with

 

this mirrorwork

requires refraction

reflection

remembrance—

a zikr of looking

and looking again.

 

Here we are,

facing to face

what is effaced

 

Daughters of tribes

known and unknown,

learning how to be

Mothers to ourselves.