Fire

By Susan Al Hafar

Yesterday I woke 

and the world was on fire. 

It started deep 

in the hearts of the minority,

rumbling through the bodies

that got in the way

and blowing like a zephyr 

across the arid land. 

And the ground drank it up 

with an insatiable thirst,

as the fiery flames rose, 

raging with war and 

crackling with contempt,

melting impurity away.

 

Today I nearly slept 

and I thought,

when the illusion ends, 

death is both a fear

and an excitement,  

the end of a stage and the beginning of another.

To finally see the unseen,

But never knowing when.

 

Tomorrow I will daydream

and imagine 

what my body will look like

when it’s washed,

and I will feel embarrassed for the state of it,

but I know at the time, 

I will feel nothing more 

than nothing.

 

Allah is my conscience.

The extinguisher of fire,

and of anger,

He showers me in serenity,

and helps me find calm

in this world of madness.

He is the reason rain scampers

across my umbrella 

like the tiny footsteps

of little ladybirds,

He is the beauty behind

the magnitude of colours

in the painted twilight sky.

And I remind myself 

He is my purpose for living,

for waking,

for sleeping, 

for being.

 

Susan Al Hafar was born in New Zealand and now lives in London. She works in marketing and has a passion for creative writing including poetry.