Your voice holds a familiarity,
Soothing to my heart
Yet foreign to my sight.
Our laughter holds age,
And our palms speak the language of art.
A’isha (RA) narrated:
“Souls are like conscripted soldiers;
those whom they recognise,
they would have affinity with one another,
and those whom they do not recognise,
they would be divergent in the world.”
I smile at this Hadith.
I remember the nights I would tell you how our souls have met before.
Conscripted soldiers, that’s what our souls are.
Conscripted soldiers who serve our Lord,
Fighters in this dunya, seeking His pleasure,
Fighters in this dunya, seeking His mercy.
Like two birds, we flap our wings and soar, learning to trust our Lord,
Whispering: tawaakul ‘ala Allah, as we face mirrored walls.
Like trees, do we stand our ground,
Determined to never give up.
Our hearts fragile with love when we speak about our Lord,
But our souls remain firm determined to reunite
With our beloved sallAllahu alayhi wasalam.
Our “souls are like conscripted soldiers”
They recognise each other,
And I tell you, salaam my beloved, for I met you
In the realm of souls.
By Rawdhat Juma