i was not a part of history – as was the browning leaf that rode the wind

into the bleeding battle fields, bolstered by the cries of fighting men,

i remember not the golden age, the years of trade; those days of peace,

I do not recall the followers, the travelers, those that caught the words

resonating, captivating passersby [but they were never meant to be as such],

and unsettling gluttonous kings and corrupted men.

I felt not the loss of dear friends, all of them martyrs, those mothers, brothers, daughters, sons.

I did not place the cloth over them; too short to cover both head and feet.

I did not stand with the mighty as they prostrated to Allah.

Vulnerable in the night, suddenly turned small.

I did not see them, those immaculate servants.

One whose wings filled the sky, and yet walked into a sacred house.

i was not of those who witnessed his, Salalahu Alayhi Wa Salam, passing,

but I am of those who mourn his loss, left us in a Quiet.

I am of those who, though so far removed from the age,

fear the day a trumpet is blown and all is uncovered.

All is shown.

 

Nesha Usmani

 

 

 

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4 thoughts on “

  1. Fear, yes…. And hope and joy (to think we will return at last to our Lord. Eyes, shimmering, diamond tears, half-smiling half-crying, child-like, returning at last lost-found.InshaAllah.)

    • InshAllah, indeed! Should our end journey be Jannah, inshAllah. But fear will be first. And if Allah is merciful to us, inshAllah, then we shall be joyful!

      Thanks bro

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