Places I’ve Prayed

The little-used narrow staircase in the back of the campus center
Shabat shabat shabat of some other student’s sandals
Qul huwa allahu ahad all over again
Holy words breathed against dusty floor, the motes fly up to pray with me
A thousand fitting rooms with a thousand dresses I never intended to try on hanging on the door
Playground grass with the birds chirping the adhan
That was a dishonest bit of imagery – I hate birds
But you understand what I mean
Something about nature and harmony
And interconnectedness
And passing families frankly gawking
And I am too old and too young for self-consciousness
Some rock in Costa Rica
Some old bit of dried lava rising to meet my face
The ocean crashing into the cliff below
If I died here would they send my body home
It’s not a melancholy thought.
In a row with my cousins, bowing behind my uncle
Lying close to my aunt
Her heartbeat tattooing a bruise on my forehead like the prayer marks of older men
Oh, Lord of this world and the next, please –

________

ZEENA MUBARAK