Dec 17, 2025
Roots run deep. When we remember where we come from, life’s maze starts to make sense. Grounded in origin, we move with purpose and turn confusion into clarity. Take a moment today to breathe, reflect, and honor your beginnings. 🌿💖✨
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Roots run deep. When we remember where we come from, life’s maze starts to make sense. Grounded in origin, we move with purpose and turn confusion into clarity. Take a moment today to breathe, reflect, and honor your beginnings. 🌿💖✨
Posted @withregram • @shahzia.sikander #rootsandwings #childrensbooks #moma #abrams #shahziasikander #hannabarczyk #amynovesky #april2021 #backcover https://www.instagram.com/p/CMcVWo1hUta/?igshid=1e42xmcbqkjj9
Golden Sunday☉ Havin' a little fun🎀 @designbyyoum #youmswonderland #customdesign #calligraphy #goldenpaint #rootsandwings (at Brussels, Belgium)
Holding Fourth
Do the deer know it’s the Fourth
of July? I saw two babies nosing
through the underbrush just as
as many millions fired up the grill
and behind a teary rain flowing
down the cheeks of bullet proof
glass in DC an indecent bully held
our pupils hostage. Do the kids
in cages know it’s the happy birth
day of Lady Liberty? The Home
of the Brave and the land of
the Free? Are only these lines
backwards or is the whole damn ship
of state sinking into the quicksand
of the small, small man who’s commandeered the tanks to news-
feed his monstrous bitter deeds.
Sophia Naz, July 4th 2019
Tiny Love
Tiny Love
Tiny as the ruby
teeth of pomegranates,
beauty that bites
when least expected
Little slip of a love
making no sense of fall
leafing through last season’s threads
Takes you by the bit
Tiny like grit, holy Braille
blinding your tongue
Tiny as wet letters of rain
late into the night, setting type
until dawn, hot off the presses
rose disrobed
Itty bitty atomic love
quick as lightning
to render dumb
Strikes you, the bait
a crumb of sugar,
infinitesimal,
love lies in wait, patiently ...
©️Sophia Naz
April Fools
Why does April make fools of us?
Is it the giddy rush of color across
the plush green cheeks of hills
marching’s past, it’s April! The thrill
a lady in waiting to become
a summer lover languid in robe
of blue twilight that takes forever
to come off. (G)listen, to April, trill
of that ephemeral whistle
between the eardrums, the bird
that bears every season but wears
a magical plumage on the page
As swans of calla lilies sing in spring
Poets fed on cruelty spread their wings
Sophia Naz
April 1 2019
Announcement
I interrupt
an Orange Ogre’s egregious excess
of awful untruths
To affirm
that there is only one
National Emergency
and his name
is Donald Trump.
©️Sophia Naz