Glow

Glow.

Like the flint that sings in the dusty breeze on rocky hill landscapes over late night fires.

The fires that hummed us to a sweet solemn quiet .

Glow.

Like dark alley strolls in late November evenings

hoping the flickering lampost won’t leave you in the unsurity of this pursuit.

Glow.

Like the warm gentle smile on a pregnant mother’s face

when she let’s her head somersault itself backwards into a roaring laughter as she looks up at the sky

imagining

what her baby will love like.

Glow.

Like a firefly whose wings applaud in the summer lull of a radiant afternoon.

Glow.

Like you woke up this morning.

Glow.

You woke up this morning!

Glow.

Like everything you thought living was about

was placed in a bowl with a power rangers spoon and God told you

to eat up girl.

Glow.

Like the Qur’an made sense to you today

raise your bare stained palms to the sky

thank the Lord he’s given you a sign.

Direction.

Glow.

Like children do in the core of jungle gyms staring up at a sea of sky and not knowing how to swim.

Yet they’re still afloat.

Breathing.

Calmly.

With the sun spilling out behind the clouds, into the brown soil of pupil that floats in their eye

Planting.

A sunflower.

And like the beautiful person you are.

Glow.

-FH

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