The blood on her cheek, the steel in her eye,
No, she wasn’t weak, was his turn to cry;
He wanted to read the words he had heard,
She showed him ablution; he softly concurred
And sat down to read from parchment upon
Which writ were the words of Majestic Quran.
The beauty that shined in His heart through his eye
Expanded his mind as wide as the sky;
It spoke to his heart with nothing between
And washed every part of it till it was clean.
And all he had wrought: the cries of the slave,
The innocent coos of the child in her grave,
All fell from his eyes and streamed down his face
To signal the rise of another in grace;
He made for the house of al-Arqam with haste,
No doubt in his mind, not a moment to waste,
And when he arrived, he knocked on the door
And waited what felt like some moments before
It opened and there before him did stand
The man who he sought extended his hand,
Then grabbing his belt, he drew Umar near
And asked him to make his intentions all clear;
So Umar complied in reverent tone,
At which did the prophet praise Allah alone;
The house of al-Arqam rejoiced when they heard
The son of al-Khattab had uttered the Word.
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