“I’m here”
is the soul’s most
primal longing, “Please validate that I exist.”
A toddler repeating
the same small sentence,
louder and louder each time,
her eyes locked
on her tired parent, begging
to be responded to.
How helplessly dependent
we meet the world; hearts
open and pure
unable to resist shattering
when our first taste of love
becomes a deep wounding,
drawing tears into old age.
We, little children
in adult bodies, going about
adult lives, turning our longings
into poems, heartbreaks
into songs. Painting our pains,
playing our losses for a chance
to heal and be healed;
the greatest potential
of this fragile
human heart.
-Mehrnaz Bassiri, 2024
