Nimah Nawwab

The Ambush

He watched the old movie unfold, The head-covered man bashing his van into a building, Nodding his head: ‘Yes another one, they are terrorists,’ The calm way he uttered those words The look in

Gentleness Stirred

Striding through the gates of learning, Wrapped warmly in her black abaya, Modestly cloaked head to toe, Not a hair astray, nor skin showing, Holding her head up high, Thinking of the future, Arms

The Longing

Freedom. How her spirit Haunts, Hooks, Entices us all! Freedom, Will the time come For my ideas to roam Across this vast land’s deserts, Through the caverns of the Empty Quarter? For my voice

When the call of the hudud, Echoes through the palm fronds Carrying in their mists, Visions, memories: Caravans of high spirited steads, Crisscrossing the endless seas of sand, Rushing through the oasis, Free, yet