There is no place like home

My daughter is sleeping on my lap
Her black braids are thick and tied with white ribbons
Her skin is soft, her eyes are big, and her nose is small
Her mouth is full with words need to be said
She closed her beautiful eyes
I just finished telling her an endless story
A story about our homeland
The homeland which is far from where we live

I told her about the good times we had there
I told her about the invaders who stole our dreams
I told her about the Iraqi kids her age who
are deprived from what she had
I told her about Dijah, the river of fertility, love and hope
I told her about the palm trees which always stood high
like Iraqi women.

She asked me to sing her a song,
I sang her an Iraqi song of belonging
Couldn’t finish the song, I couldn’t
She asked me if I was alright.

I told her that I miss our homeland
I told her how millions of Iraqis don’t have
a country to go back to anymore
We tried to dig our roots in countries we lived in
But the soil was not as strong
as the Iraqi soil used to be
Tears dropped from my eyes,
She wiped it with her little hands,
sucked her thumb and went to sleep
Glen Gould is playing Bach

I woke up to find out that I am still away from my homeland
I don't have a daughter but two grown up sons
I have been away from home for more than three decades
I am still looking for a place to call home
A place where I can dig my roots deep in
I am still looking for a soil to plant
my flowers, shrubs and trees
A Place where I can call home
Should I admit that there is no better place like home?

READ HER BIO AND MORE ESSAYS AND POETRY
BY NESREEN MELEK ON AXIS OF LOGIC

Nesreen is an Iraqi woman, a mother and poet, who lives in Canada but with an abiding love and devotion to her homeland, Iraq. You can contact Nesreen directly at: n_melek@hotmail.com