08-26-2024
Sheniz Janmohamed
LOST
They say
a path well lit is the only one
illuminated
I traverse the darkened path
where shadows laugh
in a tangle of trees
This path demands me
to close my eyes
so I can learn how to look
again
Sometimes I fall
in fact, I mostly fall
but at least I can
feel the ground
with my own hands
GARDEN OF REFUGE
they pontificate
about gardens
beyond our grasp,
heaven walled away
from the heart of need.
paradise is the garden
within your mind
take what you need
ringed heart of rosewood
sponge of star moss
branches thick with
bougainvillaea
take what you need
cup your hands into pools
of azure, splash your
thorn-scratched cheeks
with the sting of life
run your finger
through channels of
ancient waters
leading you back to the roots
of a cypress
as old as a mother’s memory
of your grandfather’s birth.
you too are born
in the second between an
orange blossom blooming and
falling.
there are many ways to hold sanctuary
may I be one of them.
BREAKING BREAD
I’ve been waiting for you.
Sit with me a while,
dust off the dirt from your shoulders.
Unburden yourself from the weight
of your worries.
Place the compass of your heart
on the table.
You won’t need to know which direction
it points to.
You have arrived.
Come, sit.
Break bread with me.
Re-collect the stones of your journey
and I’ll show you where I’ve been.
Look at my hands. These lines trace themselves back to nameless rivers,
rivers skeined by dragonflies.
Look at my face. These wrinkles curve themselves into forest paths,
paths that vanish into fog.
Sit down.
Break bread with me.
Pour the wine of wanderlust into my cup,
tonight is not a night to be sober.
Let’s toast to triumphs and troubles,
to tomorrows that will never arrive, to
this very table, for being sturdy enough to support our stories.
Cheers
Cheers! to the sun-soaked laughter of your childhood
Cheers! to the golden-gleamed smiles of your lovers
Cheers! to the rain-dampened dreams of your past.
Now, let go.
Break the stone of your memory
let the pieces scatter on the table
and hold each one up to the light.
Opaque, iridescent, tumbled, or faceted,
hand over your most precious one.
I promise to protect it, preserve it, pocket it.
I will turn it over and over
in my hand,
until my fingers memorize it
like bone
like blood
like breath
like bone
like blood
like breath
like bone
like blood
like
-from Reminders on the Path, selected by Fall 2024 PoemoftheWeek.com Guest Editor Hollay Ghadery.
Hi! I’m Sheniz Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been in love with stories– telling them, writing them and hearing them. It was because of this love that I began to explore my own story, leading me to develop my own practice as a poet, artist educator and nature artist. I had the luck of being part of the first cohort to graduate from MFA in Creative Writing at the University of Guelph, where I learned how to become a more nuanced writer. Since then, I’ve published three collections of poetry: Bleeding Light (Mawenzi House, 2010) Firesmoke (Mawenzi House, 2014) and my most recent collection, Reminders on the Path (Mawenzi House, 2021).
I’ve had the gift of performing my spoken word all over the world, including the Jaipur Literature Festival, Aga Khan Museum, and Vancouver Writers Fest. As artists always seek to evolve, I began to create nature art and sand art as a complementary practice to my writing. My art has been featured across Turtle Island including the Art Gallery of Mississauga and the National Arts Centre.
After many years of performing and teaching, I received the Birkenshaw-Fleming Creative Teaching Scholarship to complete my Artist Educator Mentor certification at the Royal Conservatory (Toronto). I have the pleasure of teaching poetry and nature art to children, adults and seniors and it’s always a privilege to share in their stories. In 2022, I had the gift of serving as UTSC’s Writer-in-Residence, where I mentored students and facilitated creative writing workshops. At the moment, I’m an instructor at the University of Toronto’s School of Continuing Studies, teaching…you guessed it! Poetry.
I’m currently working on my next book, which is a hybrid collection of essays about my grandmother’s garden in the highlands of Kenya.
I hope that our stories intertwine and you find a little inspiration here. Thanks for visiting!
Questions? Email me at write@shenizjanmohamed.com
