By Wael Abdelgawad | Wael Abdelgawad.com
If I were a middle-aged angel
wearing holy hi-tops and shining with light
placing every foot right
my hands never shaking
never having to recline the seat in the car
and close my eyes, just sit there
breathing, my heart quaking,
trying to figure out what to do next,
how to fix the wreck that is my life –
then I wouldn’t need the light
of the Most High. I wouldn’t need
to fall to my knees and pray,
always for someone else first –
my father, daughter, Syria –
then for myself, for true love twice,
for the illusion of security –
knowing it’s an illusion I still crave it –
and for the smallest slice
of Paradise.
– April 27, 2017
Fresno, California