A door you refused to open

~ Nuraine Sadaf ~ Leave a comment

I dream a dream on repeat
In it, is a door..

A tall, imposing old door
Ornate two-panels
A gold knob on the dark wood
Shaped like the face of a dragon
The more I looked
the more it grew
Intimidating, alive.
I refuse to open,
Who or what awaits on the other side?

I dream a dream..
Of a traditional carved door
Intricate motifs on its arched frame
A faint scent of white pine
Lingered in the air.
I reach out to touch,
but step back
It is not my door,
am I allowed to touch?

I dream a dream..
It is a dark mahogany door,
polished wood:
Glossy and fine
It stretched toward the sky.
I stand before it,
Tilting my head in awe.
But am I allowed
to stand here and stare?

I dream a dream..
Of a red door
with a big black lock
I lose myself
In its structured pattern.
To find such careful carving
Feels like an anomaly.
I stand again before it
I do not try to open it.

I dream a dream..
Of yet another door
Broken, laced with spider webs,
No door knob,
Moss creeping upward
Slowly eating the wood.
Afraid it might crumble at my touch,
I turn away.

I dream a dream..
Of multiple doors
each one closed
Afraid of choosing wrong,
Afraid of being lost,
I run,
I hide,
I cry.

I dream a dream..
Of a giant single black door
It towered over me
I walked towards it,
an ant in comparison
I remembered my Dada told me:
You’ll never know if you never try
I step forward,
But courage runs dry
and I turn behind.

I dream a dream..
Of a familiar door
A door from the past
Its surface remembers my touch
It was opened before
Something had escaped
Something I never named
I look away,
I cannot breathe
and wake with a start.

I dream a dream..
Of the same familiar door from the past
The handle awaits
I walk toward it,
Slowly,
My hand trembles
But this time,
I open it.

Blue sky
Green grass
A silent breeze
I breathe deep
And rise with a smile.

A Room with a Veil

~ Nuraine Sadaf ~ Leave a comment

A room with many windows
Each one dressed in a curtain
Every window the same
Yet no two veils alike.

One window is shut,
One is slightly open,
One stands completely ajar
One is guarded by a mesh.

The shut one wears
A thick blackout velvet curtain
With golden sealed borders.

A window open wide
Draped in a light pink sheer
Soft and airy
Swaying with the breeze.

One lets the light enter
Through a delicate lace
Gentle and patterned.

Another is adorned
With heavy intricate embroidery
Tied neatly with a bow

One hangs simply
With tassels and prints.
Another blooms in floral cotton
Playful and warm

Many windows
Many curtains
Satin
silk
velvet
cotton
linen.

Yet through none of them
Can you see the entire room
Only a veil of what lies within

For the room
was reserved
for only the one
living in it.

Characteristics of Life

~ Nuraine Sadaf ~ Leave a comment

A poem by Camille T. Dungy

Ask me if I speak for the snail and I will tell you
I speak for the snail.
speak of underneathedness
and the welcome of mosses,
of life that springs up,
little lives that pull back and wait for a moment.

I speak for the damselfly, water skeet, mollusk,
the caterpillar, the beetle, the spider, the ant.
I speak
from the time before spinelessness was frowned upon.

Ask me if I speak for the moon jelly. I will tell you
one thing today and another tomorrow
and I will be as consistent as anything alive
on this earth.

I move as the currents move, with the breezes.
What part of your nature drives you? You, in your cubicle
ought to understand me. I filter and filter and filter all day.

Ask me if I speak for the nautilus and I will be silent
as the nautilus shell on a shelf. I can be beautiful
and useless if that’s all you know to ask of me.

Ask me what I know of longing and I will speak of distances
between meadows of night-blooming flowers.
I will speak
the impossible hope of the firefly.

You with the candle
burning and only one chair at your table must understand
such wordless desire.

To say it is mindless is missing the point.

Filter, filter, and filter all day, anything or anyone that holds you back, just keep moving like a snail. Wordless desires that’s the way of life. Such a beautiful poem. 🙂

~ Nuraine Sadaf ~ Leave a comment

Passing through the day,
in a silk shirt, a pencil skirt,
hair gathered in a loose bun,
a few strands dancing with the wind.

The sky hangs grey,
autumn leaves rush by—
their colors whispering goodbye.

Hello Fall

~ Nuraine Sadaf ~ Leave a comment

The grass is turning pale, the leaves begin to change,
a gradient of green, yellow, and red.
The wind grows chilly, stealing leaves of trees away
Like flowers tossed in the air,
The red and yellow leaves dance above my hair
moving with me, walking beside me,
Swirling, flying, and landing softly by my feet.

Hello October, hello autumn,
it’s a bittersweet joy to meet you again.



Yellow Face by R.F. Kuang

~ Nuraine Sadaf ~ Leave a comment

Book Review

Suspense | Social Media | Envy | Ambition | Racisim

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

I don’t remember the last time I finished a book at this pace, in two days flat. Yellow Face is a fictional story of two friends, Athena and June. Athena Liu, a celebrated and successful published author, and June Hayward, a struggling writer whose career never quite takes off. Both of them love to write, but luck favors one over the other. Until it doesn’t.

Continue reading “Yellow Face by R.F. Kuang” →

A Candle

~ Nuraine Sadaf ~ 2 Comments

A slick wax body,
sometimes thin, sometimes tall,
sometimes scented, round and small,
red, black or white,
in a glass or on a stand,
A candle –
in a thousand forms and shapes,
yet the flame is always the same.

Its purpose: to burn,
a spark brings it to life,
spilling warmth and light,
casting shadows that dance,
Perfuming the air,
Bringing joy to faces,
when placed on a cake.

A candle can also wound,
sear the hand that holds,
or burn down a house to ruins.
Feel sad while —
watching its body surrender,
Drop by drop,
Burning away,
To the silence of the wax.

Are we not the same?
Like candles, living flames.
Choosing how to burn
Entirely up to us..
Will we melt away in pain,
Or shine –
and illuminate the world before we fade?