Poem: Prayer at the Ka’ba

Oh Lord, the orange cat lying asleep on the
shoe rack outside the Ka’ba
looked tranquil, lean from
living wild in Mecca, but still
cat-like and sweet-faced –
surely some of this peacefulness
could come to me?

Oh Lord, You raise up giant roof-beams in the
world and
hurl great foundations
as deep as the seas –
I am only your creation of
flesh and bone,
but surely some of those
depths and heights
could be mine?

Oh Allah, I sit here facing Your House on
earth, beseeching Your Grace,
seeking Your Face,
my own not good enough in
this life,
my own face a combination of
lusty panther and
awkward ostrich
in this life,
yet I’m grateful for its
miraculous properties in
facing the world,

especially the eyes – close them
and light spreads,
open them and
miracles appear –
especially Your stark square of black cloth rising
endlessly up into the night in front of me now
but Your Face, Lord,
could I catch a
glimpse of it at least?

A white owl flies in the night somewhere,
its impassive face and saucer eyes
fleeing through the air.

Is this my face, Lord,

searching everywhere?
12/20/95 (from Sparrow on the Prophet’s Tomb)

About danielabdalhayymoore

Poet, artist, collagist, publisher, hoping to save a little bit of the world through ecstatic utterance... ordered in balanced lines and unpremeditated images...
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3 Responses to Poem: Prayer at the Ka’ba

  1. Khaadim says:

    Beautiful! … thank you for making your poems available here. It is hard to find an english, muslim, poet who reminds us of the Divine; someone from whom we can learn and find hope in. Perhaps now Sufi poetry will come to live again.

    It is difficult to put ones feelings to words, I know now after attempting it. Poetry is a difficult art to learn, I know now after miserably failing at it.

    I would be honored if you were to assist this amateur in learning the art. Here is something I attempted very recently:

    Have you seen a fish pulled out of sea?
    Seen how it yearns to return home?
    Have you felt its pain when it
    Twists and turns in painful agony?

    Ti’s how my broken heart throbs
    After leaving the holy vicinity.
    I am weak at heart and cannot bear
    The pangs of separation from my Beloved’s City.

    Unite me now if you wish to cease,
    Cease mine moaning and weeping.
    Unite me now or I shall suffocate
    Just like the fish pulled out of sea.

    – Khaadim


  2. saimah says:

    it made me cry ought to be beautiful


  3. Nadia Siddique says:

    oh, to be that orange cat so near the Ka’aba! beautiful post, MA!


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