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.