The silence
is broken
only
by the sounds
of
quiet recitation;
a heavy sleeper’s snoring;
the occassional car outside.
A bird’s call rings out,
over and over –
the same sound
(to me)
yet perhaps,
its remembrance
of its Lord.
For every living creature
glorifies Him,
in languages we know nothing of.
Wind flows
through trees outside,
causing shadows
to dance
upon the masjid carpet within.
A carpet
that’s borne
the weight
of 26 nights
of elevated worship,
with the peak
still due
just hours from now.
The clock ahead
ticks on,
needle marching
second by second,
reminding of our diminishing lives,
upon a planet destined
for a spectacular conclusion.
And when
That Day arrives, these
seconds
minutes
hours
will bear testimony
either for
or against
us…
how we spent them
in our limited sojourn
on this Earth’s surface
before
we journeyed below,
to a life beyond life.
Our deeds
the only luggage permitted
on the Other Side.
It’s easy
to remember,
in this month.
Easy
to think
of what awaits.
Easy
to maximise our time,
building that mountain of good –
provisions –
for our lives to come
in realms
unseen.
But what
will we remember
a week from now?
When the blessed visitor has departed,
the evil whisperers are restored,
and carnal desires may be fulfilled
at any hour of day.
The sign of acceptance
is that you continue
the good,
even beyond
this month.
So as we venture forth
into the dying days
and nights,
may we put forth
our very best.
Push
and rest,
then push some more.
For these moments
are golden,
and though they will return
a year from now,
none but Allah knows
if we will meet them again.
So in this final stretch,
count not the remaining days and nights,
but make them count.
Your future self
is depending on you.
slip-sliding away..... 