two worlds intertwined - Poem
i watched american pharoah win the kentucky derby
my father pointing at the screen, telling me, that’s you
american mother, egyptian father: a combination of two worlds.
from two different worlds, my father and my mother
had me, born of two different worlds, a hand in each, not fully one of either.
from my father i was given the warm spices of the earth
cumin, coriander, ghee, familiar tastes and smells of home,
making kushari, grape leaves, shareyya, always there for comfort.
my mother doesn’t like to cook, but still she made me muffins,
clam chowder, apple pie, calming seasonings of cinnamon,
in every pastry, bread, and cake; the scents intermingle,
in the kitchen, in my memory; not two different worlds,
only one, the food of my family, my culture, my home.
american pharoah, i think it’s cheesy but true
i remember my father telling me, there is beauty in difference
to experience two cultures, two worlds, two ways of living
he tells me i am lucky, but most days i feel cursed
to always be the outsider in both my family trees
different from every cousin, friend, no one but my brother
born in the same boat, so different, yet the only one
in the same culture as me, and most days i feel lucky
that my cultures were born to coexist, harmony, a melody
two worldviews, languages, foods, music, families.
american mother, egyptian father; a combination of two worlds
different in every way, cultures enemies at war; so it is beautiful
that they created a pocket of harmony, a pocket i call home
where i belong to two, two families, two languages, two foods,
two cultures intermingle, intertwined inside me.
the blossoming of the camellia - Poem
the camellia blooms in winter
its delicate petals blushing red
they open quietly, no fanfare to be heard
you don’t realize that they’re there
‘til they’ve adorned their velvet robes.
their bright green leaves
protect them from the winter’s dagger
the color harmonizing with their coats.
but without their sturdy trunk,
they could never show their faces
without its other parts,
these flowers would never bloom.
the camellia enjoys the spotlight
until winter ends its regime
and spring rescues the flowers from their captivity.
a palm tree amidst a billion towering pines - Poem
a single tiny palm tree
surrounded by
a billion towering pines
alone, different, scared
a single tiny palm tree
its fallen spiky leaves
covered by dead pine
its memory forgotten
a single tiny palm tree
a billion towering pines
hide its favorite thing
its view of the faithful blue sky
Nora Ibrahim is an amateur writer from North Carolina. She is currently in high school and preparing for college.