The hands have gotten dry! No longer they water the plants, Nor they feed the birds of fate. No longer they wipe the tears, Nor they lift up others. No longer they whisper the tasbeeh. Nor the hamd (praise) of their Rabb they once used to do. Drought has come to this soul All that's left now are cracks and holes. Through mercies hand The seeds once planted deep down Lie awake, hidden in the ground Waiting to be see. What is this heart supposed to do now? Should this heart make an ablution? So It may become clean , Of stains and shadows, Of faults and falls, Of transgressions, And oppression. From ablution to surrender The drops of purification return to the soil. All the sins go back to earth And the soil recieves them holding, absorbing it all As if they belonged there. Reminding One day we too will go down that road not only the water that purifies this body but the entire being will return to the soil.
Note: This poem feels like the opposite of my previous poem rainfall. This poem came unexpectedly. I didn’t plan to write it, but somehow drought found its own voice and spoke. Hope it resonates with you, in whatever season you find yourself.🌼✨
*Ablution: Ablution (in Arabic, wudu) is the washing of hands, face, arms, head, and feet before worship. It’s a beautiful reminder that purity matters before we connect with Allah.
*Hamd: praising Allah with love and gratitude in recognition of his mercy, power and blessings.
Beautiful! Glad to have you back :)
“Drought has come
to this soul”
familiar feelings tied into beautifully written poetry, Allahuma Barik 🩵