In My Mom's Lap
As a It's only through stories that I hear about Paradise. As a young girl I used to sit on my mother's lap, listening to her talk about the bad things that happened to people who did not pray. She said that when these people died, an Angel would visit them in their graves and ask questions about their God and his prophet. If this person had read the Quran and practiced the guidelines in it, they will go to Paradise's waiting room, and when Judgment Day arrives, God will take them into Heaven. If they hadn't followed his path, God will punish they severely. From all the stories I was told, I have grown to believe the same Paradise is never-ending life, where all wishes are granted. There is no math. There is no science. There is no poetry. There is no Shakespeare. It's where I have power. I have control over the things I want to do. There is no goal. All the things I need are there, waiting for me. I believe only those who work for it, committing themselves to God and His will, will get there. God knows we humans are not perfect, and so it's possible God might forgive those who didn't make the right choices. This is not to say we do whatever we want, and beg for God's forgiveness and kindness. We should be studying the Quran or other books people believe are the words of God, in order to fulfill God's commands so we can go to Heaven.  Paradise has not been important to the last few generations. As a matter of fact, the only times we think about God is when we are sick, are in trouble, want to win a game or the lottery. On earth we are busy striving for material possessions. There are things we want and we are determined to get them. We don't care how we do it. We will step over anyone or anything in our way. For me to get to Paradise means I must leave the material world behind and help others realize the same ideal. Maybe that is why I'm so political. I know the earth will never be Paradise, but I still think it's important that we try to make it as good a place as possible for everyone.

Ismahan M. Ali

I Love You Mom!
She is a blanket that overlaps
our mind and heart
She has the age of goddesses
She gives the freshness to the world
We should bow down to her
knee for the thankfulness
She senses herself as a tree
with leaves and branches
Sitting by the tree would give
me a sense of well-being
and the shade of protection
Without disturbing, but peace and quiet
With the silence
With the concentration gives to my mind
to go beyond the imaginary image
I am an angel in the sky
The warmest and coolest air penetrates
my body that takes me to her 
Inspired by her love we reunited at one site
For her, we will die
For us, she will live
There is no obstacle that stops the relation
between a mother and a son

Long T. Hang 

Lift Us Up Once Again
Africa the nation of King's and Queens
The mother of blacks
The root of humanity and love
Open your arms and eyes for your kids
Wake your heroes, unite us once again
Let us feel love
My heart bleeds to see the children
Holding hands and playing around the fire
Oh mother, have Mercy upon us
You have become a nation's blood
You have become a graveyard
You have become a nation of healers
All we ask is to be lifted up once again
To the past ethnic world

Yirgalem K.Madie