The Dust Never Settles Down — A Poem by Saba Zahoor
On World Mental Health Day, Saba Zahoor presents a series of verses that venture into the center of struggles and experiences that remain difficult to communicate yet persist in the lives of millions throughout our human world.
The Dust Never Settles Down
I.
I don’t know what I’m suffering from.
What is the cure?
II.
Depression is a coil. A downward spiral.
Grief is a point. A point of singularity.
Melancholia is a ditch. A rabbit's hole.
Agony is a bubble. A hyperbole.
Sadness is tidal. That's life.
Torment is unseen. Reserved for the afterlife.
III.
The steeds all galloped away
the day he died.
Untrodden since the path remains, yet
the dust still refuses to settle down.
She sits by her window, not waiting
for anyone to return home.
Still gripped by their departure, she
waits for the dust to settle down.
“I've suffered much,” cried the old man.
“Will the dust ever settle down?”
To the dying man, the Hakim[1] apologized
“I'm afraid the angst shall outlive you.
It’s the dust. The dust never settles down.”
n.
1. A physician, especially one who practices traditional medicine, in a predominantly Muslim culture.
2. Wise, learned.
