Under Angels’ Wings
Can our tongues ever speak again, even one lie,
When we have spent one night in adhkaar under a Makkan sky?
Can our eyes ever be dazzled by dunyaa’s tapestry,
When the ka’bah has filled them with its majesty?
Can we ever put haraam against our lips,
When the fragrance of aswad from them still drips?
Can we ever do harm with our hands,
If they have felt the heat of Makkan sands?
Can we with our fingers make du’aa for more,
When we have placed them gently on the ka’bah’s door?
Can we ever walk to sin with our feet,
When we have wrapped ourselves in ihraam‘s sheet?
Can our ears ever enjoy dunyaa’s sound,
When we have heard the weeping of millions in Makkah’s air resound?
Will our body and soul dance when dunyaa sings,
After we have made tawaaf under angels’ wings?
With grief I realize my nafs still screams,
As the birds of the haram fly in and out of my dreams.
And as they flutter their wings in my hearts’ eye
With longing, with shame, with fear I cry – Makkah, Makkah, Makkah, how I miss you.
was’salam
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