The Cartographer

You will not enter Paradise until you believe, and you cannot believe until you love one another (Sahih Muslim)

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Strangers build cities in the deserts of my heart

They set sails in its seas and traverse its fickle terrain

Upon the fringe of continents lies my temperament

Vulnerable to the dipping coastline and boundless forestry

Tamed by لَا إِلَٰهَ إِلَّا ٱللَّٰهُ مُحَمَّدٌ رَسُولُ ٱللَّٰهِ

— ‎

As I navigate the plains of this fragile vessel

I see my affections occupy hillsides with the souls of my brothers and sisters

I witness a dawn gleam with the light of their ethereal love

I harbor longing for lands and peoples uncharted,

And protect caves of sorrow for the believers departed.

—

When the ocean floor trembles with uncertainty and the map unravels and strays

The habitants of the heart abandon their lands in search of guidance

And they find a compass in your words, RasulAllah ﷺ

They tie their tents to your memory, and the turbulent winds melt into delicate skies

Spilling tears to nurture the seeds of tomorrow’s venture.

By Aisha Abdu