I know you wait for me with hope so bright, You cry in silence deep into the night, Just one request I ask with all my might — Don’t hide your pain inside, my dearest mother, Don’t say “I’m fine” and lie to me, dear mother.
No matter what — please tell me, let me share, Let me be your healer, show I care, Let me be the shield you always wear, Don’t hide your pain inside, my dearest mother, Don’t say “I’m fine” and lie to me, dear mother.
Without you, what would this world mean to me? Without you, my days would empty be. Tell me your sorrow — I beg you, set it free, Don’t hide your pain inside, my dearest mother, Don’t say “I’m fine” and lie to me, dear mother.
In every word, your kindness I can trace, In every glance — deep love I still embrace, To me, you’re life’s most sacred, tender grace, Don’t hide your pain inside, my dearest mother, Don’t say “I’m fine” and lie to me, dear mother.
When you smile, my heart is full of light, When you tear, my soul weeps through the night, Your son Ozodbek thinks of you each night, Don’t hide your pain inside, my dearest mother, Don’t say “I’m fine” and lie to me, dear mother.
Ozodbek Narzullayev was born on December 20, 2006, in the village of Bo‘ston, Koson district, Qashqadaryo region. His works have been published in several anthologies. He has participated in numerous creative competitions and has won top prizes. He is the author of the book titled “The Heart’s Emotions.”
We are holding out for a hero. With our forehead carved of multi versa wisdoms,
Sent rowing on a boat designed for a destined night
Stuck in a time lapse of revolutionary haibun
With a soothing arctic cooling of illiteracy volcanic tears dripping on a night breast
Calming flames of corruption
Ascending on a house of cleaning the world dark stains
Said as he who calm anger with knowing,
He who freezes the magma flow of belittled burnt on nightmares
He who spreads wisdom like wild fire. Wouldn’t sought barricades on a night songs face
Hamza Kamar is a 16 years old Nigerian poet, painter, and Content Creator. currently studying at Legend International School. He is also member of Hill-top Creative Art Foundation (HCAF).
Haeun (Regina) Kim is a student writer from Seoul, South Korea. When not creating visual works, she can be found writing and struggling through amateur ballet.
(I was eight years old when God’s Holy presence entered my awareness.)
An essay of Faith
“GOD WANTED ME.”
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, “plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11
Preface: I have walked seeking God since my earliest days of life. God has been my focus and my needs to know that I belonged to someone. An empty place and a darker place that surrounded me. Amidst the seven day candle representation God’s Holy Light and the burning colors of the votive candles burning and finally, the magnificent array of colors flowing through the stained-glass windows.
This was my sanctuary from the darkness in all aspects of my life outside of God heart for me in this place of Salvation.
God adopted me between the ages of eight or ten years of age. I’m uncertain completely because my aunt Lucille adopted me legally at age eight, but God accepted me since my birth. He truly loved me and He created me. My aunt Lucille exposed me to Holy Redeemer Catholic Church on New York Ave in DC. Morning mass was a part of her religious ritual. Each weekday I’d accompany her to Holy Redeemer. Sitting there amidst these elderly women of the church who were regular attendees for weekly morning mass. Monday thru Friday. Saturday was another Catholic Church Saint Aloysius on North Capitol St.
Saint Aloysius was different to me. It was different inside. It seemed larger than Holy Redeemer. It wasn’t those old ladies there and only a few other attendees at Saturday morning mass. At Holy Redeemer being the only child there added to the feeling of being out of place.
However, at Saint Aloysius there was a sense of privacy with God, but at Holy Redeemer there was no sense of privacy to be with God. Only my aunt and I sat in the pews with plenty of space. There was one circumstance in which the priest approached my aunt. She was receiving Holy Communion and had taken the Host and dropped it on the marble floor. I would take the body of Christ out of my mouth and put it on the floor where I had been kneeling.
She was embarrassed and ashamed more for being scolded by a priest for my desecration of the body of Christ. I didn’t know anything about desecration, but I didn’t like the taste in my mouth. I was a child that didn’t like his food so he would feed it to the dog. I can see the priest use a white cloth probably a handkerchief to pick up the body of Christ off the tile floor. Don’t remember her words, as much as a sense of shame and guilt.
This was a pattern from her for me. She in different occasions seem to always apologizing for me. I was very sensitive to what was said to me and about me. but even at an early age I didn’t like anyone speaking for me. On the other hand there was a need to just be quiet.
Like sitting in church alone or when adults talked was the old adage: children should be seen and not heard. Many things I was told I took to heart and listened to my elders.
Since Dee was a native American and half-Black, she had a strong system of how children should be raised. I truly am so very touched because Dee directed me to God. Her words continue in my memory: You belong to God. Therefore, I sought Him first in the streets and then in the church, as I sat there looking at the candles flickering. I learned at age ten and over the next five or six years that my growth was inside God’s Holy Redeemer Chalice Church in DC.
My refuge, my sanctuary, my safe haven from the treacherous street of darkness. In the church, The Tabernacle that housed The Holy Body of Jesus Christ that would be transformed into Holy Communion. The votive candles burned with glasses of various colors of blue, red, and yellow lighting the votive candles which were on a stand with several rows of candles and the variety of colors bended together in unison. Often, I sat in the pew mesmerized by the colors, sitting there observing all the details of the mural in the dome of the ceiling.
Wonderful colors of light blue colors and art of heavenly figures adorned the ceiling.
Slowly, my eyes would gravitate to the altar where the floor was made of marble not just marble but there was smoothness and a glitter a shine similar to the floors at Lloyd’s job. He buffed and waxed those long hallways and the shine was like a mirror reflecting light.
This marble added to the light of God as the light of the stained glass windows covered the spaces between the walls as the sunlight reflected the art of the windows. The feeling of peace and the comfort my heart experienced. Slowly a heart that raced in the streets was quiet slowly almost still. Surely God would live here with the light shine of candles and serenity. God wouldn’t live out in the streets with all the trappings of inner-city life. Yes, God would live here with the light of His light. God’s quietness flowed into my essence, held me safely in the light of His presence. The vanilla colors of the walls kept the warmth, as the affirmation of God’s sunlight brightly illuminated His inner-sanctuary. This was to me Heaven here on earth. Alone in the majestic palace of the essence of God’s presence surrounding me, protecting me. Giving me life like the breath of God at my birth. I was not alone, but was His creation that fitted into this glorious sanctuary.
My eyes glued to the seven day candle of God. A candle made of beeswax to signify the significance of the Holy Father, as being here and present. I had His full attention, as I continued to be still and listening for His voice. Dee often stand sit there and be quiet. Perhaps, I reasoned that sitting there quietly God would speak. Dee often times would not speak so, listen for her to give directions. Dee was my guide to how to be and now its clear being quiet and listening and to be just be still.
Maybe in his wisdom she loved the line from the Bible: Be still and know I’m God. She never spoke Bible verses, but lived a life without them. She taught me about God and to be respectful to my elders. Dee said God exists and that was enough to know. She instilled in my innocence that God listened and I had no words for Him, but I had questions: Why am I here in this place alone? I belonged here with God.
The inner-city was indeed wasn’t a sanctuary, but rather darkness. Even in the daylight the darkness surrounded my thoughts, my emotions and my body. Only here in God’s Sanctuary was there a array of light following from every corner of the church as the stained glass couldn’t withhold the light and warmth of the sun. God truly was alive and real, but He had no verbal words and often like with Dee I had to just be still and wait for her to say something. Suddenly she spoke. God doesn’t like ugly. Referring to the behavior of someone. Most importantly was she said that I belonged to God. The sun was high in the sky and the Lord took my account of my life, and just as I came to this inner sanctuary it was time to return to the darkness of the streets and the violence and dangers and mostly children yelling and babies crying. God would be a retreat from it all and I would often return to this palace of His Heavenly Heart.
My serenity fades as I used my small frame young body of a ten year old child to open what to me were gates like surrounding a fortress. The light was brought and the eternal darkness would come like it always did in my neighborhood. Alone as I said earlier and its to be repeating because it’s what I experienced repeatedly: without Him and that aloneness was filled with terror and darkness and noise lots of noise. Gunshots and screaming and babies crying into the night as if they two felt the dead and darkness. I felt it each moment of my waking life. Crying myself to sleep in the darkness of my bed. Yes, I cried without ending and afraid my gasping for air would be heard. So, I held my breath as the tears soaked my pillow and as my heart ached.
Many years of soaked pillows and holding my breath as I continued to gasp for air.
The quietness returned when returning to Holy Redeemer Catholic Church and many other churches and chapels quietly sitting and listening for God to speak like Dee suddenly would do in my presence anticipating a word a vocal response, but I did experience was a profound sense of calm and peace filling my very essence and like all the other times it was very clear that and it was time to return to the world, but God had indeed spoken to my soul.
“GOD WANTED ME.”
God indeed had plans for me and a purpose and now His plans and purposes are mine deep in my soul.
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, “plans to give you hope and a future.”
