Malala

She looked her would-be killer in the eye,

And saw the ignorance

That fuelled the fear

That powered the bullet

That pierced the skull

That passed right through

That took her to the other side,

Closer to the prophet than he could ever be

No matter how many times a day he prayed.

 

She saw a split second of confusion

When something deep inside himself

Questioned his actions,

But the wheel now firmly set in motion,

Powered by its own momentum,

Could only move in one direction,

Because, for now, he was sure,

He had God on his side.

Not so, later, when the question returned to haunt him.

Could it be the same God that had enabled her to survive?

 

She came back from the other side,

With wisdom way beyond her years,

Compassion and love in her pure heart,

And the words of all the prophets on her lips.

 

But that seed of doubt planted within him,

Would begin to grow and not let go.

In its climb towards the light,

It would demand answers.

He would see that light is knowledge

And that humans cannot grow in darkness.

He could only regret and repent,

And hope for some forgiveness.

 

But she – she dwelled already in the light.

She who had met the final darkness

Was hungrier than ever for its glow,

For knowledge, love and worldly peace.

The power was all hers,

All her fears already faced,

All wounds healed in love’s embrace,

All bridges crossed, no trace of hate.

She would surely find many pearls,

She would inspire and change the world.

Even more on truth

There is a grain of truth in every opinion,

and a bucket of lies in every tiny white lie.

Like a rolling snowball, they accumulate and stick,

and as the ball grows, it becomes distorted.

Unfortunately, truths also grow distorted,

and are soon obscured,

engulfed in the fog of misperception,

which descends upon them.

Though the light may be piercing,

still they fade,

becoming harder and harder to find

and harder still to define.