Inspired by a segment of Shaykh Amin’s uplifting talk on the night of the twenty-fifth.
We like numbers We like charts We like charts with numbers That tell us when and where the new moon will rise Not for us to see No that would be Self-defeating for it requires Getting up No, it’s just so we know When to take the day off For what’s to see Just a sickle in the sky Reminding us of our own truncated intellects Apathy Is when we relegate science To brew us A cup of tea Boiled in our own stupidity Steeped in our uppity Self-absorbed amazon-dot-com impassivity What’s that, khalid Did I call you stupid… No, no, of course not I was just pointing out That while the air is crisp and cold And the sky is vast and blue with hope And the time of dusk is nigh And night is held back by A chance to look up and peek through the springing foliage To spy A sliver of moon Born again Ushering in a new beginning Out with the old Breaths, deaths In with the new You Hope as vast as the sky That begins with a silver streak To wax and wane For the next four weeks No, I was just pointing out That stepping out and looking up would take significantly longer than swiping left And tapping twice A new iOS update is now available.