When the night is at the brink of shedding its darkness
I open my eyes to welcome the sound of the caller.
The vibrations echo in my head and bounce off the walls
Whispers of lazy devils attempt to interrupt
However, i cannot remain still and watch my faith corrupt.
With arms sprawled across the comfortable bedding,
Stepping on the cold hard ground can seem rather upsetting
but what is coming is indeed better than what has passed.
Nothing beats the soft slide of the forehead on velvet
showing devotion, muttering prayers
because on Him we are dependent.
As if we were stopping by during busy hours
to kiss the forehead of one's mother as a token of gratitude.
He has allowed me to breathe another day
and I will use almost every single one
to thank Him for the blessings
I was not denied.
A poem about Fajr prayer - my favourite.