He wept and he prayed in the light of the moon
Not a moment relenting from prayer
As the tears streamed down his beautiful face
Every breath of his scented the air.
All three hundred men and thirteen, lay asleep
In the peace that the night prayer brought
But he stayed awake with an awe in his heart
Of the Might and Majesty of God.
The ache in his feet, the pleas of his friend
And the night’s cold pursuit of the dawn
Couldn’t turn him away from the presence Divine
That his being was focused upon.
We turn to the world with our hopes and our fears
Belittling the power of prayer
Yet a fortress of planning and action will fall
If it’s built on a foundation where
The reliance on God isn’t there.
حسبي اللہ ونعم الوکيل
Inspired by Shaykh Amin’s sermon this past Friday.
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