Fiza
10-02-2003, 15:33
I looked on amazed, at the sea of shimmering white,
trying desperately to see the Ka'aba,
Where is it I asked,
There.
The huge towering monument of God,
Loomed before me,
My knees gave way,
The marble kissed my forehead as
I lay prostrate.
Awed, humble and again awed.
Somethin stirred awake in my heart,
Some sleeping angel blowing life affirming air,
Inflating my soul.
My hands righting my hijab became damp, from the tears,
I had not known I was crying.
They say that the very first time you see the ka'aba,
The first three wishes you make will come true.
So I prayed like a child blowing out their birthday candles,
Never questioning whether my wishes would come true.
I did not need to.
Like an anxious virgin I stumbled towards it,
My sight blinded by the waterfalls that drenched my cheeks,
The circling hords parted like the red sea,
And with each step I came closer to God.
Allah,
I knew you wern't contained in that cube which
Abraham had so painstakingly built,
Yet it was the closest I could get to
Reaching out and touching you.
The black silken thread like the grass of Jannah,
Weaving around me an invisible shield,
Unpenetrable by the jostling and pushing by the men,
To kiss the stone.
The stone which moaned to God,
That Adam had abandoned him,
Only to be given such a bounteous abode,
By the side of God,
Honoured by men,
Who like blind men groped for their lifeline.
I circumambulated,
That word had always made me laugh,
In school when the time came to tell my uniformed friends,
In front of the class,
I always struggled to pronounce the word,
Which now I write smiling,
Aware of my ignorance.
I circled the stone,
Paying homage to God's order,
Following in the way of the planets which circle their sun.
Basking in the radiant light,
Which illuminates them,
Leaving them reeling.
A torrent of thoughts fill your brain while you walk,
Not all religious.
I did think however of the Prophet's family,
Walking as I walked,
Doing as I did,
The disparity between me and them laughable,
I was a public school student (who's father was generous,
To have given her the oppurtunity that,
he had not been granted).
They were the monarchs of heaven, peasant like on Earth,
Staying hungary through discipline,
Present before God,
Without the stains I brought with me,
On my soul's exhibition.
After the seven cycles,
Feeling dizzy with wonder,
I eyed the crack.
The Ka'abah opened for you ,
My Imam.
The faded, wethered corner was being,
Honoured, by those who did not acknowledge you.
Kissed by the mouths that refused,
To bless your name.
I honoured you.
My kafila honoured you,
Blessings of God be upon you,
O' child of the Ka'abah,
Whose two walls had parted,
To deliver you,
Silent to this unawakened world.
The Prohet held you,
Sending the praises of the angels,
As I sent you my tears,
And my almost pathetic mumblings.
I sold you my soul at that very moment,
I have bought it back since,
But you left and indelible mark,
On my book of deeds,
A ticket to heaven?
After praying we departed,
Sitting at the KFC,
Appreciating, the halal meat,
Amongst people who had travelled,
From the four corners of the world,
Two people,
Sitting a few feet away from us,
Turned around,
And asked,
Are you from Birmingham?
The humour of that moment as
A few meters from the Ka'abah,
Miles away from home,
On this spiritual journey,
Our accents had been recognised.
trying desperately to see the Ka'aba,
Where is it I asked,
There.
The huge towering monument of God,
Loomed before me,
My knees gave way,
The marble kissed my forehead as
I lay prostrate.
Awed, humble and again awed.
Somethin stirred awake in my heart,
Some sleeping angel blowing life affirming air,
Inflating my soul.
My hands righting my hijab became damp, from the tears,
I had not known I was crying.
They say that the very first time you see the ka'aba,
The first three wishes you make will come true.
So I prayed like a child blowing out their birthday candles,
Never questioning whether my wishes would come true.
I did not need to.
Like an anxious virgin I stumbled towards it,
My sight blinded by the waterfalls that drenched my cheeks,
The circling hords parted like the red sea,
And with each step I came closer to God.
Allah,
I knew you wern't contained in that cube which
Abraham had so painstakingly built,
Yet it was the closest I could get to
Reaching out and touching you.
The black silken thread like the grass of Jannah,
Weaving around me an invisible shield,
Unpenetrable by the jostling and pushing by the men,
To kiss the stone.
The stone which moaned to God,
That Adam had abandoned him,
Only to be given such a bounteous abode,
By the side of God,
Honoured by men,
Who like blind men groped for their lifeline.
I circumambulated,
That word had always made me laugh,
In school when the time came to tell my uniformed friends,
In front of the class,
I always struggled to pronounce the word,
Which now I write smiling,
Aware of my ignorance.
I circled the stone,
Paying homage to God's order,
Following in the way of the planets which circle their sun.
Basking in the radiant light,
Which illuminates them,
Leaving them reeling.
A torrent of thoughts fill your brain while you walk,
Not all religious.
I did think however of the Prophet's family,
Walking as I walked,
Doing as I did,
The disparity between me and them laughable,
I was a public school student (who's father was generous,
To have given her the oppurtunity that,
he had not been granted).
They were the monarchs of heaven, peasant like on Earth,
Staying hungary through discipline,
Present before God,
Without the stains I brought with me,
On my soul's exhibition.
After the seven cycles,
Feeling dizzy with wonder,
I eyed the crack.
The Ka'abah opened for you ,
My Imam.
The faded, wethered corner was being,
Honoured, by those who did not acknowledge you.
Kissed by the mouths that refused,
To bless your name.
I honoured you.
My kafila honoured you,
Blessings of God be upon you,
O' child of the Ka'abah,
Whose two walls had parted,
To deliver you,
Silent to this unawakened world.
The Prohet held you,
Sending the praises of the angels,
As I sent you my tears,
And my almost pathetic mumblings.
I sold you my soul at that very moment,
I have bought it back since,
But you left and indelible mark,
On my book of deeds,
A ticket to heaven?
After praying we departed,
Sitting at the KFC,
Appreciating, the halal meat,
Amongst people who had travelled,
From the four corners of the world,
Two people,
Sitting a few feet away from us,
Turned around,
And asked,
Are you from Birmingham?
The humour of that moment as
A few meters from the Ka'abah,
Miles away from home,
On this spiritual journey,
Our accents had been recognised.