Sunday, 15 July 2012

Spiritual Limbo

The faces of some, grown old
Mouths shrivelled, move rhythmically to praise
Hands tremble as they count
To one hundred.
They have spent their efforts, their wealth
Their life.
Yet to my untrained eye
Their hands are empty, upturned.
Irrelevant to patient hearts, at ease

She stands at the podium
The fragility of her words carry
She shakes fervently trying
To convey a message of wisdom and truth
To stir the hearts
But they do not move

The girl I sit next to
Is my age and MSA
She is texting and tweeting about
The programme today
And though there is a hijaab
Piled on top of her head
It is not the same

Spiritual limbo
Is being torn between
Aunties with scarves that cover their chins
Slim fit Abayas, brooches and sparkly things
It is standing on a broad line
And being told both sides are correct
It is knowing but being unable to accept
The former over the latter
I cry tears of the unworthy
Unable to associate with either
They stack green, plastic chairs
So I am left in a room filled with believers

No comments:

Post a Comment