Mo

He sways majestically from side to side.
Ball clutched tightly, in his arm held wide.

Light as a bubble carried on the wind.
Dodging and diving  as the game begins.

Flying and floating toward the try line,
He once again owns the glory and shine.

Brave, black and beautifully,
Frivolous, young and carefree.

A bright smile lights up sky. You tend to smile back,
Though you don’t know why.  

Mo, they call him
He’s from a land afar.
He’s made his home here
Where he shines like a star

A son, a brother, a student, a friend
Mohammed begins, where beauty ends.

The interview

So here I sit.
Waiting for my turn before the firing squad.
It was made clear that you will be allowed to plea your case
Followed by an interrogation.

You palm sweat.
You hear the buzz in your ears
Your heart races like the favoritè horse with its promise of winning
That twist in the pit of stomach reminds you that you about to enter the lions den.

Advice?
Breath deeply
Think happy thoughts
Dont go prepared
Follow your gut.
Trust yourself.

Now…
May it go thee well

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The Boy and the Balloon

A gentle pull on my sleeve.
My eyes turn down.
Big brown eyes look up at me
Shining, expecting.
‘Hello’, his lips forms,
Barely audible.
A bright red balloon he holds with two tiny little hands.
‘For me?’
I ask.
I look up to seek permission.
A mothers eyes vigilantly looks on.
She nods affirmation and smiles
Saying a wordless OK
‘Thank you. What’s your name?’ I ask him.
He mumbles inaudibly in this unexpected husky voice.
Again my eyes turn to mom
‘Jethro’, I read her lips.
‘Hello Jethro.’ I say.

He stuffs the bright red balloon in my hands.
His little face crinkles into an illuminating smile.
He turns and runs back to his mother’s arms,
Leaving me
Like I’ve been touched by an angel.

@Nazlee Jeppie

The Pilgrimage

To desert lands so far abroad,
Milions travel for their Lord.
Leaving family,friend and foe,
Their jobs, their cars,
their neighbours and homes.

By train, by plane,
By land and sea.
They swarm to Makkah
To make their plea.

Forgiveness from sin
Is what they seek.
Pleaing and begging
With hearts gone meek.

A cocktail of people
Black,white. From every hue
From different
countries they hail
To seek that which is true.

In the grand mosque they circle
They pray and they chant.
Each man and each woman
To whom this privilege is grant.

They run in the footsteps
of Abraham’s Hagar.
As she ran to and fro
In search of drinking water.

The cave of the prophet
they climb up toward.
Where the message to mankind
Came down from our Lord.

Zam zam they drink
A sweetness like milk.
For many millennia
It flows from the earth.

Humility and equality
Of all human beings.
All dressed the same
So no one feels shame.

An experience of note
Some joy and some fears.
Repeated annually
For fourteen hundred years.

For he started this journey
The trustworthy one.
To give us this opportunity
Fellow Muslims as one.

So as we walk as he walked
Muhammad beloved.
We soon realise
The blessings from above.

This pilgrimage called Hajj
Not for those of weak heart.
All Muslims desire
For their journey to start.

@Nazlee Jeppie

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See-saw

Then you go
Then you stay.
Like a yo-yo
Stay and away.

Emotions rising
Like the sea.
Only to ebb
With  disappointed plea.

Happy thoughts
Then robbed of joy.
A see-saw bouncing
Up and down.

Make up your mind
Rest our hearts.
Choose direction
Let certainty rise.

@Nazlee Jeppie

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Uncover

So much time has come and gone
Wasted, lost with none to show.
She never saw what lay beneath
A soul of beauty; a face that glowed.

Her mirror daily showed ugliness.
While the world saw smiles and dimpled cheeks.
Her mind saw only fat and flaws
He saw a model; his beautiful wife.

Now that she is ready to see what he saw.
It’s hidden deep under layers and stored.
For she has accepted her ugly truth
And did all she could
To hide it from view.

A new battle ensues
To uncover what’s lost
Find it…she will
If it’s the last thing she does.

@Nazlee Jeppie

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Blydskap

Haar gemoed blom soos wit lente bloeisels.
“n Glimlig streek gretig sy koppie uit.
‘n Laggie borrel soos ‘n kabbelende stroom.
Lagende ogies verkreukel van geluk.
Diep kuiltjies in wange ge-ets.
Dit gaan haar goed
Want sy is bly.

@Nazlee Jeppie

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Aasvoël

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Die son bak genadeloos op sy bloodgestelde vel
Styf gespan oor ‘n moeë raam.
Diep gesonke oë knyp styf toe om die sonstrale af te weer.
“n Sterk wind waai warm om hom heen
Hy sukkel om sy oë oop te hou.
Slaap durf hy nie;
Want dit  laat hom weerloos en kwesbaar.
Die aasvoël kyk geduldig toe.
Sy maag geswolle , kliphard en seer.
Somer en Winter
Lente en Herfs;
Alles in een dag weer
Sy oë raak swaarder en val toe
Met ‘n skrik en skok word hy wakker geruk.
“n Hoongelag steek in sy ore soos ‘n doring tak oor sagte satyn.
Op wil hy spring na veiligheid maar sy swakke liggaam laat hom in die steek.
Sy gees gaan lê.
Hy is te moeg
Hy het verloor
Die aasvoëls wen.

@Nazlee Jeppie

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Mo

He sways majestically from side to side.
Ball clutched tightly, in his arm held wide.
Light as a bubble carried on the wind.
Dodging and diving  as the game begins.
Flying and floating toward the try line,
He once again owns the glory and shine.

Brave, black and beautifully,
Frivolous, young and carefree.
A bright smile to light up sky.
You tend to smile back,
Though you don’t know why.

Mo, they call him
He’s from a land afar.
He’s made his home here
Where he shines like a star.

A son, a brother, student, a friend
Mohammed starts, where love ends.

@Nazlee Jeppie

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The Lawman

Like a bull in a cage
He snorts and rants,
He is discontent
To what others will bend.

An owl that oogles,
Sharp ears and eyes.
Self-appointeď lawman,
In judgement he lies.

He stutters and spatters
Out words meant to sting.
His hellish deliverence.
No comfort it brings.

The message is clear
Be careful, don’t fray.
The lawman is watching
To catch his next pray.

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