The Journey

Fri, 1960-01-01

My soul in its bondage sorrowed

At the hurt and grief, it suffered

I knew not how to soothe

This pain, that was within me.


Till I stood upon the musullah,

The image of the Kaaba, before me

And the Lord of the House

Not afar.


The hot tears rolled down my cheeks

In complain, of the anguish

I must suffer.


Oblivious to my surroundings

To the minutes ticking by,

I bowed, in worship of

Him, alone Who could help me.


My heart beat fast within me.


My Makers glance rest o’er me.


In prostration before my Maker

My ethereal soul soaring high,

I wondered why I had feared

The bruises and jolts,


I’d receive on the jaunt

Thru the crowded bazaar,

That must be traversed on the path

That leads to the Heavenly Abode.


By Hasina Sajun.