Masjid

By Brandon Marlon

Gliding legs usher him past street beggars

paring oranges, towards hallowed

spires and domes, through bolted doors

and before the qibla, whose mihrab

welcomes him without rebuke.

There on his knees Faisal weeps

in agony, pricked by remorse’s sting,

appealing with heartfelt snivel and bawl

to the Most Merciful and Compassionate

to assoil a wayward sinner,

for a measure of undeserved pity.

 

He waits. Hours later, solidly braced

in the fortress of his creed,

he kisses the woven prayer rug

then slowly rises to greet at last

the forked tongue of fate,

hopeful of meed, fearful of loss,

calmly resigned to Allah’s will.

 

Outside, peevish beggars chide in

tones surly and sour,

mumbling of poor fare,

craving a pittance, wagging bony fingers

till the anxious toss dinars

in charitable amounts with forced smiles.

 

Brandon Marlon is a writer from Ottawa, Canada. He received his B.A. (Hon.) in Drama and English from the University of Toronto and his M.A. in English from the University of Victoria. His poetry has been published variously in Canada, the U.S., England, Greece, Romania, Israel, and India. www.brandonmarlon.com.