Monday, 24 November 2014

Poem by Na'ima B. Robert

You try
To excise
The part of you
That loves too strongly,...
The part of you that still has tears to weep,
The part of you that still loses sleep,
The part of you that still holds on,
The part of you that must be strong,
The part of you foolish enough to cling to hope
In the face of hopelessness.

Cut it out,
Shred it,
Watch it shrivel and die.
Bury it,
Mourn it,
Emerge with dry eyes.
Deathly triumphant.
Though that dull ache is constant.
For you have killed the love
And, with it, a part of you,
But you feel that it is worth it,
For you know this to be true:
Walking away is but the easy road,
Sometimes it hurts too much to care.
Sometimes it's safer to bury that love you feel
Than to see your soul stripped bare.
Maybe, for once, you want to give up,
For once, you're not the hero,
For once you agree to fail the test,
For once you let that last chance go.
Maybe you'll throw up your hands
And admit defeat
And wish for the eternal sleep
To sink, unhindered,
Into the abyss,
The abyss of dark forgetfulness.
Or maybe, my sister,
You will cry those tears
And rise, in spite of all your tears,
Rise, rise upon broken wings
Knowing that He hears everything
Knowing that He hears your pleas
And His Promise is true: with hardship, comes ease.

*For every mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Keep Walking by Yasmin Mogahed

Keep Walking
By: Yasmin Mogahed

Every day I get closer to our Meeting.
I feel like I’ve been walking this path for a thousand years
towards You…
and yet I’m still not there.
So close, and yet so far still
But I keep walking,
despite the tears,
despite the wind,
despite the skinned knees and broken bones,
despite the bruises and scars that make this heart what it is today,
I keep walking…
toward You.
There’s only one direction,
one direction:
towards You.
From You, to You.
I have nothing else.
That is my poverty.
I keep walking
because behind every sun’s setting is a rising,
Behind every storm is a Refuge,
Behind every fall is a rise,
Behind every tear is a cleansing of the eyes.
And in every spot you’ve ever been stabbed, is a healing,
and the creation of skin stronger than it was.
I keep walking
because wallahi I have nothing but Your mercy.
I have nothing but Your promise
Your words
Your promise

“Oh mankind, indeed you are ever toiling on towards your Lord- painfully toiling,- but you shall meet Him.” (84:6)