2:36 am

i wonder if my umma ever woke up

at 2:36 in the morning and thought

about the life ahead of her.

maybe she was wide-eyed and hopeful,

hoping that the world would open up 

new paths for her.

i wonder if my umma ever woke up

at 2:36 listening to my cries

and wishing for things she couldn’t have

with my presence, like peace or quiet.

i wonder if she stays awake at 2:36,

away from home in her mother’s bed,

wishing that she had done things

differently; would she be a singer?

a teacher? would she travel more? 

and i wonder now, 

awake at 2:36, if i make her proud.

there are unspoken apologies 

and unheard secrets between us.

a truth she shared recently has 

weighed heavily on my shoulders.

at 2:36 i wonder: if i was just

a little better that time, or 

a little more apologetic this time,

would this truth not be a reality?

at 2:36, i apologize to my umma

hoping that she’ll hear my whispers

from across the sea