I wrote this poem because of my grand daughter Maryam. She, and her mom made the family room their bedroom, as her mom couldn’t climb the stairs, because of her c section. They have now moved upstairs.
It was strange that at night time the child would look to the left side of the room, and start crying. When she looked to the right, she would smile. I have yet to ask someone knowledgeable as to what this means? Are there some unseen presences which only a child can see?
For the duration of their stay downstairs I switched on the recitation of Quran through day, and night. It helped somewhat, but now the mother is having daily nightmares.
Daily Prompt: Soulful Machines
Machines, appliances, and gadgets sometimes feel like they have their own personalities –from quirky cars to dignified food processors. What’s the most “human” machine you own?