after being submerged

in something greater, sweeter, deeper
with surfacing, there is the gasp of new air
and the shock of realignment (eating during sunlight)

these final days before we sight the new moon
the most precious, our last chance
to feel the winds of mercy
but this Ramadan is different to the last

not only because I am in KL, no longer Sydney
just my husband and I in our apartment
now we live with my mother-­‐in-­‐law, her maid
in a big house with fruit trees older than I am

what makes it different is the glacier of
grief; dead men, women and children in Gaza
and a downed Malaysian plane
first MH370, now MH17, will there be more?

friends Whatsapp me to ask if I’m OK
I live in the nexus of mysterious airline tragedies
but I’m still finding my feet. after so long down under
being near the equator unsettles me

they watch the news and fret each time
another MH vanishes or gets shot down
I feel safe only because I fly budget air
but now each flight to Sydney and back

carries the weight of anxiety
as heavy as the the 298 who died
and the 239 who vanished
and the rising death toll in Gaza.

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Editor: Renée Picard

Photo: rana ossama at Flickr