religion

Big/Little (Poem)

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I don’t pray anymore
except for when I do—
and when I do, I pray for you.

Not on my knees
with head bowed and hands clasped,
no our fathers or false promises.

I pray for you
with two pence pieces
turned over and over
between thumb and forefinger
and flung into fountain wells;
with cracks in the pavement
avoided underfoot
and counted steps at bedtime;
with childish superstition
I refuse to outgrow for your sake.

I don’t pray anymore
except for when I do—
and when I do, I pray for you.

I pray you’ll grow up a diamond
so when the world
comes to your doorstep
with cutting tools in hand,
you’ll shine brighter
just to spite them.

Day Thirty – “Holi” (In For A Penny)

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“Kabir! Kabir, it’s started!”

Nadira bounced up and down in the doorway, a bag of powder paint already swinging from each hand as her big brother joined her, peering out at the growing crowd. Little puffs and flecks of colour rose up above the mass of people, lingering in the air – like someone had dragged a rainbow down to earth.

“Race you,” he grinned, darting barefoot into the street and taking a handful of paint from his own bag. He threw it behind him without looking, hearing the giggle and muted thud as it hit Nadira square in the chest.

For more information on “In For A Penny”, or for further entries, click here.