Mustard Seed Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Mustard seed

In market once again
I search for right judgment
As if beach, or desert
Looking for single dune
I am lost, lost, lost; lost
Unable!

Here in Canada
Immigrants behind bars
Cells replace medicine
No place to sleep
No food and no shower,
"Brutal! " says Lawyer.

Then Iran's prison
Mohammad, officer
Kept inside, insider
Easy in confession:
"I did for my daughter…! "
She was sick and he poor
He applied for a loan; rejected
Yes and no with regret
He let pass the trucks
Afghan loads to Iran…
Opium and heroin for Europe
Partially used local…

The main cause was his need,
Daughter Sick
Could have turned to greed.

In market for righteous
Feel like seed of mustard…