Green Leaves of a Dry Trees

Zakia hashim Basri

Total Pages: 78
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An empty box is a term used when someone describes his life, but in my case, it is the opposite, my life was like an untidy box. I was filling it sincerely but it was vain, and I wish to re-arrange what’s inside. The abundance makes it difficult to see its contents. I am trying hard to look in-between the folds of my box what I had forgotten to throw.

But it is not an easy endeavor; my life is still going on, and to stop and to check and organize hinders my life, and I am unable to do both. I do not want to cry, but my astonishment exposes me and shows others my whining, tears, and screams but I can’t recognize it.

I don’t know what to do! But I remain steadfast, until without I feel and Allah gives me permission.

Here is my first step to re-arrange memories and remind myself of what I’ve suffered, I wish I could.


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