My load is heavy, let me rest My aching self a bit, But only for a moment lest I tarry where I sit. I know I’ll slip along the way, And suffer every plight As I walk in the scorching day And in the dark of night. I may not bear the strength to rise Above my many pains, For obligation comes to me In many different strains. But come now, take my weary hand Consolingly in yours, So I may see you understand What all the world ignores. And in return, I promise you With all my heart and mind A constant love, and every peace My faithful hand may find. I pray to Him upon His Throne That shades all Will Divine, That I forevermore be yours, And you, forever mine.

Lil One, Don’t Break Your Fast

I wrote a little something to encourage my children to fast this Ramadan. Sixteen hours is a looooong time.  Come on, lil’ one, don’t break your fast, The sun will set upon us, soon All thirst and hunger will have passed, And you’ll set out to find the moon; ‘Cept you won’t see it every day, Because the moon and earth and sun Are steadfast in their patient play; And patience plays with anyone. If you pick up a tasty treat And almost put it in your mouth, Stand frozen as you point your feet, The left one north, the right one south. Don’t take that glass of water to Your parched and thirsty, fasting lips. Pretend your left big toe is you, And let it have a couple sips. Blah blah buzz buzz ha ha hee hee. Did you know saum means silence too? Make like a giant, sprawling tree, And sway your hands as branches do. If all this makes you shake your head, And crave a more rewarding chore, Then to your blessed path instead; You’re not so little anymore.