“The Flame in Medina”
I am burning.
Not from the scalding sand on my bare feet,
Feet that ache from miles of walking.
Not from the heat’s sweat dripping down my chaste skin,
Skin that has not yet been cooled by the gentle touch of a man.
Not from the sun’s harsh rays in my eyes wet with tears,
Eyes fixed on Medina.
I am burning with love for You.
I cry out for you on this journey.
Such a pilgrimage is hard on a poor country girl.
Such a voyage made harder by the yearning I feel
Makes my body weaker and weaker.
But the fire that destroys my frame sparks embers in my soul,
And I travel onward to that beacon, Oh Medina!
I am inflamed with love for You.
At last the light of the shining city gleams brighter
I am beckoned by your majestic home;
To think you will soon be with me here!
I sigh with the joy of relief,
For I have arrived.
Yet my heart cries out
For I still must wait for my Ahmad.
I am ablaze with love for You and will not live to wait much longer.
The angels send their gaze from the heavens
The women watch eagerly from their balconies,
I stare straight once again,
Eyes fixed to the road on which you will come.
I wait no more. For your journey too has ended.
Galloping in on a golden saddle,
An aurous answer to my prayers.
The gilded altar awaits us,
Though far more precious is your presence.
My body,
My heart,
My soul,
Are engulfed by an inferno of passion.
A desire,
A faithfulness,
A flame,
That will never ember.