My spirit is in tatters

I throw crumpled pages and mess up the floor

 Still I can't wrap up the train of my thoughts, 

Without penning a line my mind falls apart.

Addicted to the satellite channels

I'm pasted to the TV and dawdle over my meals,

I contravene my culture and I'm in the wrong.

At the foggy winter dawn night's mood lingers

I'm cold and my body curls up into a ball;  

Feeling extremely frostbitten

Like hikers who may freeze to death 

I could never be a Hillary or Tenzing.

My nature feels anarchical

When the sun rises above the horizon, 

My heart withers inside out when I see

A nest swaying on a narrow bough;

In quest of a totality my heart beats.

Rubab Abdullah lives in Ohio, USA