Renewal

Sunshine streams through
mature tree branches.
A perfect breeze
wends its way 
through the lush garden.

This is one of those rare
Maryland spring days 
where windows are open
and the humidity is habitable.
A banner day for renewal.

Inside, in celebration
of breaking the fast,
mighty platters groan
with charcoal-grilled morsels
of chicken, lamb and kefte.

Charred tomatoes and 
cooling cucumbers call to me,
as does a build-your-own
chana masala bar.
I greedily pile on an extra
spoon of green chutney.

In the buzzing kitchen,
a semi-circle of 
several animated pairs
gossip, giggle and banter.

Boisterous chatter unfolds
over ice-filled glasses 
of tamarind, mango,
seltzer and lime coolers.

High-brow insights 
blend in smoothly 
with bawdy dad jokes and
plans for upcoming travel.

Children swirl in and out
grabbing samosas or sodas
then running for the yard
or unclaimed game controllers.

Out back, on the patio,
the hollow sounds of 
basketballs bouncing
on asphalt fill the air.

Children squealing
and adults chuckling
mingle with birdsongs
to form an organic melody.

"Grab a chair," she says,
"and give me your hand."
I comply, gratefully,
pulling over a wooden seat.

"Find a design, a simple one. 
I'll try my best." 
She shrugs at me,
politely feigning humility.

I smirk back at her.
We both know 
that she'll far
exceed my expectations.

I point at a pattern 
I've pulled up on my phone.
She nods, considering her 
next moves and approach.
She holds my hand 
in hers and she starts in.

She works quickly:
a thin brownish-green line 
of vegetal paste extrudes
from a narrow golden cone
of prepared henna. 

She graces me with 
a custom mehndi pattern
under the shimmering 
spring light, painting 
blooms and leaves and 
curlicue vines onto my 
left hand. 

Our friendship was once
forged in flowers.
We now sustain it through
intentional celebrations. 

We exchange invitations 
to our respective holidays 
and carry out rituals of joy.

We expand and combine 
our circles of loved ones.
We, who are always wading
through rough waters, 
or challenges, or small triumphs.

While the henna on my hand
will slowly fade over time,
our friendship never will.

We will keep on 
weaving a warmer future, 
filled with laughter —
and phenomenal food —
and family, friends, wit and hope.