The hookah smoke rings rise up high,
Into the purple, evening sky.
The tea is served in glasses small,
Against the tiled, patterned wall.
The call to prayer begins to ring,
A beautiful, melodic thing.
The merging of the old and new,
A deeply complex, striking view.
Living in a city that straddles two continents, Leila’s poetry is where the East meets the West in perfect rhythmic harmony. She writes about the beautiful contradictions of life, the merging of different cultures, and...