The mid-afternoon prayer is over,
and the masjid sits empty,
moved only by the stirring voice
of an old man passionately reciting God’s words…
Words sent to us this very month,
centuries ago,
in a desert land so far away,
yet so close
to the hearts
of those who have tasted its beauty.
Sunlight streams in
through an open door,
outside which sits
our majestic mountain;
the Autumn heat obscuring its view,
limited only to a hazy silhouette,
a marvelous contrast of dark and light,
earth reaching to the sky,
towering over this city of millions.
Nearly a third has passed
of this annual gift of Ramadaan,
as our souls soak
in the serenity
of a time like no other.
And before long,
we’ll approach the halfway mark,
then the precious final Ten,
before Eid arrives once more,
and life returns
to whatever state it was before…
Unless we stop the annual pattern.
Build our inner fortress now –
while the enemy is at bay,
and good deeds are so much easier.
The clock is ticking,
the days and nights escaping.
May we hold them close,
appreciate the treasures they hold,
and take whatever benefits we can
to sustain us
for the year to come…
slip-sliding away..... 