Notes of Nara

Spring 2025: The Servant

She felt oppressed. Boxed in by her own choosing. To obtain another degree of knowledge and ignore the degrees of wisdom gained? Springing ahead five steps and tumbling down hill without grace. All for one and all alone. Indentured to all, but herself- and herself is locked in a cell and in the cell grazing through the virtual portal of make-believe. Soul is foul with impatience, but knows that She will quake, crack, and break under pressure.She will listen to the true master that she must serve.

Summer 2025: The Seagull

A lover. A whirl-wind ,of sorts, in the Court of Hearts. Every neglect unraveled on the floor, like the cunning Cleopatra rolling from her rug towards her magnate. She believed him. She followed his footprints in the sand towards  a cliff straight into the North Sea. He transformed, spread his grey-white wings, and took flight. She watched him fly away and his bird song did not reach her ears, but blended into the frenzy of the cries in the sky. He did not look back for her and she did not call out to him. Her raw-heart burning blue, she fell silently into the cold arms of his ocean… 

Autumn 2025: Jackal Red

A jackal howls in ecstacy. Earthly pleasures tie and bind her in red. She did not know that her plan was rehearsed and cursed to serve the silent watchers. Messages of urgency fall on deaf ears and a death of She is near. The lacy mask she wore to all the balls; enthralling and enticing the ravenous beasts once more. So thrilling and willing to play the game with nameless faces, no traces of the places they’ve been; just smiles and trials with judges that hold grudges who demand all of her will. she kneels before the court and offers her neck freely, as she grins softly, revealing sharp jagged teeth.

Winter 2025: The Initiate

She is worn

mending torn pieces of her flesh together again

Tara’s green crown aglow with secret gardens unfolding,

full of herbs to keep away the chill of winter’s breath

to clarify the fray of yester-year’s form

Green mother calms her

showers her with verdant arms of compassion 

and patience

a crown, she wears, of mint, rosemary, and pride

Green mother claims her

all doubts and woes

for she knows

she grows

her roots deep into her purpose

written by Najah Rasheedah