Zaara, more beautiful than any child I have seen,
I wonder what you see at night when you dream your dreams.
Is it ponies, rainbows, fairies or butterflies,
Or is it a black storm approaching, coming across the skies?
I feel it coming in my bones
and sometimes I feel so alone,
but then I wipe my tears from my eye,
so that you never hurt seeing your mother cry. Continue reading