Poem: Adhan.

my eyes find hers, i say

one more push! you’re almost there

as women have done for years since time began, and


a rush of life.

my hands hold hope, slick with blood.

i wipe nose and mouth, look for tiny breaths, a whisper

on my hands.

she cries.

i smile, but


no words fall from my tongue.

not yet.

eyes wide with wonder he looks at me, i nod.

and there beside the bed, a new-born father finds, perfectly folded

his daughter’s tiny ear.

bends down


softly whispers ancient words

filled with God.

— adhan

© Liezel Graham 2019

From my book, A Counting of Love.

Page 79, Adhan.

Some births, much like some deaths, always remain with you as a nurse. When I delivered this little girl, the absolute wonder on her father’s face as I handed her to him is something I will never forget. It was glorious to witness and a gift to my heart.

A note on the Adhan—just after a baby is born, the father will bend down and whisper the words of the Adhan (the Muslim call to prayer), in the ear of their baby so that the call to serve Allah is present from the very beginning. I was always respectful of being as quietly supportive during the birth as I could be, so as to honour (as best I could professionally during the birth) the words of the Adhan being the first that the baby heard after they were born.

Poetry on YouTube? Join me!

Lovely ones, if you enjoy YouTube and poetry readings, please visit me at my lovely brand-new YouTube channel—definitely something I didn’t think I would ever say!

I hope to include little videos of my favourite woodland walks in the future, as well as some writing prompts to inspire your journal writing practice.

I would love it if you would join me there if you are a fan of all these YouTube!


#Poetry #PoetryReading

a poetry reading—thoughts on hope, and courage, and faith Ko

so, you have had loss—things, and people have been taken from you.

i know the shadows of this place, too.

you did not see any of it coming. did not ask for it. did not agree

to it.

for a long while now you have lived your life stunned, every breath a shallow thing.

you have forgotten what it is like to walk the earth on tiptoes, eyes shining.

one can dwell too long in the land of grief, living within the borders

of loss.

and now?

what do you call your life now—have you given it a new name?

is it kind, can you still find hope within its walls?

something even lovelier may be on the way, you know.

tell me

is your heart wide open, your hands—are they cupped, ready?

this is how you start it—how you find your way out, how you eat life again, open your eyes, say

thank you.

— thoughts on hope, and courage, and faith

© Liezel Graham 2020.

Page 93, A Counting of Love.

Here’s a wee something to carry into your weekend.

‘Something even lovelier may be on the way, you know.’

And a video of me reading my poem ‘Thoughts on hope, and courage, and faith.’

It’s a grey, wet day in Glasgow today, so please excuse the light—also, I don’t really know what I am doing when it comes to making videos, but I hope the words find their way to wherever they need to be.




Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: