Seeing Sajjad

They say that you never slept
Always supplicating and seeking
And when given water wept
Always ruminating and reliving.
If we had been in that moment
Then we would have to grasp
Shards of sanity through torment
While our throats rasped,
With dry cries of madness,
Striving to claw ourselves more,
Ashamed at our weakness
Embittered, maybe, at the Creator.

We ask:

“Could we be expected to hold to our worth,
here, cramped in the dark, with wails of hurt,
the degradation and the fear,
the powerlessness, the uselessness, the utter, utter
futility?

Could we forgive, those taunts, though our tears, those mocking jeers
Barrelling round the cell walls, that spite and the constant
Loathing and lascivious leering?”


But you are not us, this is evident.
You formed yourself into submission
Hurled your broken bones down
And let His mercy smooth them out,
And made that mercy flow, through
Your hands, to hands that speared your love.
Thus, when Worship wishes to be known
It looks around and calls you mentor
Thus, when Attainment wishes to rise,
It asks you to give it flight.
Though all titles are grand,
And all men raise themselves taller,
You, Sajjad, and your whispered prayers
Show giving all
Is gaining all.

by
Ali.A.Naqvi