I planted seeds of magnolia in my heart

Some springs ago

I walk head tilted, as the magnolias now grow

Little do I water

Little do I tend

A nurturing soil for my magnolia I deem to pretend

Rosy petals sprout each dying day

April has come and gone

Here comes May

Home for the doves, shade for the troubled

There is a bittersweet ache lingering on my shoulders

For having to rest my head all day long

Spring may be cruel

But so is God.

For entrusting me to home a magnolia tree

Sprouting from my heart

The poet is based in Islamabad. Her work has appeared in The Missing Slate and Aleph Review Her collection Eclipse and Apocalypse is available now