Inspired by the painting 'On Me' by Hossam Sakr

Inevitable

grace

steadfast love

what is it, this not being able to be here

you ran to the plains

a thorn came and thrust inward

and so you adopted the outward

button holed and contained

yet the question continued

and shaped your gaze

with ochre tearing, a tear of tense

of past, of what now, of will

oh but the beauty still undeniable

still

and there is a child that remembers

and a mother's wish

Upon your face were whispers

hopes and dreams

and no yet, no yet or but – your heart held by a father's echo

the charcoal

and your name