Blooming Moons: a Poem by Ariana Nazem

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Treehouse-dwellers

We are foreigners.

We live in these houses,

yet have no home.

In the same neighbourhood,

with little expectation of neighbourliness.

In this diverse city,

yet not connected by diversity.

We are unique

neither Here nor There

our countries, roots and branches in our identity

yet, our countries do not consider us citizens,

claiming our identities invalidate us

Truthfully, our identities are

confused?

Our home is here,

A treehouse made of the bark of woods we have lived in.

Our roots are elsewhere,

An immovable forest whose bark we have taken to build our treehouse.

And neither bark nor root recognize us as theirs

because there is too much of us that isn’t theirs.

too much ‘Western’ to be traditional

too much ‘traditional’ to be Western

neither Here nor There,

existing in Nowhere and Everywhere at once

in our claustrophobic treehouse.

Yet, it is between Nowhere and Everywhere

that we find treehouses like ours,

hewn together from the fine barks of their countries

international citizens with identities that are just as confused?

living in treehouses unrecognized by neither bark nor root

and, as demoralizing as it may seem,

we, the treehouse-dwellers, find hope

in the place between Nowhere and Everywhere

for there, living in those claustrophobic treehouses,

live foreigners like us

who recognize us

as one of their own

those who know the new subtlety of racist nuances

who shred the blankets of stereotypes placed upon them by their own countries

who stand firm when their identities are brought into question

who recognize us

because we are one of their own:

foreigners.

We are them.

They are us.

And we, the treehouse-dwellers, find hope

because,

even if our treehouses share no common bark,

they were built the same way

By foreigners

who nicked their hands as they tore away each strip of bark from their country’s forest,

caught themselves in the sticky strings of love they used as glue

to hold their treehouse together,

who housed hope when their treehouse seemed out of place,

who opened their arms to other treehouse-dwellers,

who stand united with other treehouse-dwellers

And we stand united with other treehouse-dwellers

because they are us

and we are them.

All the Time

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My name is Ariana Nazem, my pronouns are she/her, and I am an American-

born Bangladeshi-Canadian writer and poet! A lifelong book lover with a talent for writing from a young

age, I have always been immersed in either a book or notebook with a pencil at hand (if I wasn’t

stargazing, watching anime, or bugging my little brother). I have also won several writing awards and

joined multiple organizations to promote various forms of writing (i.e. technical, creative, speech, article,

poetry, etc.). However, it wasn’t until recently that I considered turning all this passion into a career. I

have recently self-published a zine titled Orange Juice & Pink Lemonade, am in the process of publishing

more pieces, and have created a platform for my writing on Instagram (@ariana.nazem) which will

feature more of my work!

Artist’s Statement: I have always had a passion for writing, crafting everything from short stories, to

personal essays, to speeches, to articles, to, eventually, poetry. However, poetry was the only companion

that stuck around, although for different reasons as life went on. Initially, it was a way to express my

thoughts lyrically. As I grew older, it was a way to explain the world and its omnipotence. As life

continued, it became a way to express my affection for my loved ones. Now, I write about my own

thoughts regarding cathartic emotions or circumstances. Despite changes in my poetry’s inspirations, it

has remained a constant companion and will undeniably continue to be one for the rest of my life.

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10 November 2022