It’s a miracle that I’m still around
After I lost my skin
And walked all over Tehran’s streets,
Absorbing all the noise and pollution
Directly into every little muscle and bone.

It’s a miracle that I still love—
Even if very selectively,
And surgically cautious.
Even if from a distance,
From my carefully curated living space
Where only music, art, and fashion are allowed,
With no pre-screening and constant monitoring for letdown and betrayal.

It’s a miracle that I still smile—
Even though, if you look closely
At the corner of my mouth,
You would notice a trace of unbreakable sadness.
That’s why, when I feel too deep,
I look away.

There was a time, when I was younger,
When I loved so freely,
So carelessly,
So curiously—
But I got pushed and pulled,
Hurt and burnt
Beyond the point of my breaking.

You cannot see it,
But my soul carries all those wounds
And burn marks on her skin.
And she carries them
Like a badge of honor.

Because it’s a miracle that I still breathe.
And it’s a miracle
That I kept my dreams.

Raindrops kiss the earth,
he sits beneath the grey sky—
eyes still on the stars.

Clouds hide every light,
but he whispers to the dark,
“Maybe one will fall.”

Storms can’t shake his faith—
even meteors seem far,
but he waits, and waits.

The world says, “Give up.”
He only tightens his grip—
hope like fire inside.

Rain or stars above,
he believes in miracles—
even if they burn.


Erennwrites

Feeling
Like
I can't
Express
Enough
What
A
Blessing
You
Are,
How much
Wisdom you
Carry.
How I feel
Seen and loved,
And I want us
To marry...

There once was a man from Bombay
Who enjoyed a remarkable day:
     It started at sunrise
     When the sun chose to unrise,
And it ended when Earth rolled away.

I endure -
                this is
the way of the unblessed
                in a land of storms;
A moment expands -
        scared river on the hills
                 then back
tumbling
sandwalking
                 in a land of worms;
Holding hope
                 by the beat of heart,
closures
        ever birthing
                 in a land of proms;
And then a candle
burns through -
fragrant at night;
        The blessed
                  have their heavens;
The unblessed,
                  satori;

A natural yet cruel reminder,
That we all have a hidden number.
Of decades, or years, or months, or days,
Left on this world, before we fade away.
“Grandpa had a fall in the middle of the night”.
And you start praying that he can win this fight.  
“Grandma has cancer and it’s terminal”
And you start hoping for a proper miracle.
“Your uncle Ben can’t walk without a cane”
And you start blaming God for all this pain.

You were born on a cold October night
My beautiful baby boy
God gave me you
to fill my world
With happiness and joy

Throughout your life you struggled,
Many trials, you had to face
But with each battle,  you stood strong
Through God's amazing grace

Your brightest light, and faith in God
You shared with those you met
Changed many lives, and filled us all
With a love we won't forget.

Micah, your love changed me and for my life you were "God's Will"
My love for you goes on and on,
My sweet boy, my miracle.


I love you Micah, always and forever,  I know that you're dancing in the sky, and singing in the angels choir. I love you my miracle boy,
my Micah-man, sing a song for me up in heaven.....
Love mommy xoxo