a most sacred space

as I sit waiting for the morning’s golden rise to 

strike the black and golden hues of a most sacred space, 

the birds circulating its four corners, 

the masses of grateful servants chanting their Lord’s praise 

I want to take all the light that my pupil can let through in this moment and let it imprint 

on my mind everlasting these trying times, 

and this sobering moment, my Lord, this moment a culmination of a decade 

toiling painfully away and hopefully back towards this blessed place 

there is so much beauty in everything that breathes and moves here 

like the two little girls twirling to my left, 

the family that stands to take a standstill of a moment they’ll treasure, 

the young boy who faces the qibla and fixes his ihram clothes 

and bless the hands of those who honor and purify your masjid

the sun’s slant marking the sway of their arms as they work to cleanse these floors 

upon which we place our foreheads earnestly. 

upon which we hope to walk again,

sun to our backs, our shadows a reminder of these blessed moments 

                                                           |  4/4/23, morning's rise, Makkah |