My Bird Song
When a bird peeps its morning songs– you look, you leer,
Think it is not for you, but because it allows you to hear.
And for 30 straight nights, I came for prayers,
Not for you, but because I sought God to forgive any of my errors.
It swings from one branch– brown, rough, and brawny–
With my sore reddened feet, I prayed with the stars until they were no longer so sturdy.
And from branch to branch it hums and it sings,
Where minutes became hours I stood, prostrated, and remained.
Before the bird left, lifting its head to a goodbye,
She chirped, “peace” and continued to soar, she flied.
I left the mosque, smiled, “salams” walking late in the night.
But you lingered, you stared.
You looked me up and down– I pretended that I disappeared..
A hunter to its prey,
You sharpened your teeth.
She spotted you, ascending high to get out of your way–
Through the wispy grey clouds and past some heath.
And without a thought and a doubt,
You took your bullets out–
Taking aim and with a flout.
My face held high waiting for impact:
A tsk tsk tsk and then you attacked:
Your hair is out,
Your clothes are tight.
Your’re young and bold–
Too loud, you’ll pay a price.
Your care not of your appearance–
How it looks, how it gleams.
You think you’re so pretty,
Your tweet tweets, your flutters, your fledged wings.
You have no respect,
You have no grace.
Has your religion taught you nothing?
Have your parents told you what I think?
You’re all about staying hip– the trends.
The latest fashions, no care for amends.
You mocked me,
In front of many grasshoppers, ants and flies.
They gathered around and whispered.
Hahaha and Oh my isn’t she right!
I stayed until I was able reappear–
But your shot was weak and I walked away.
A bit hurt, but I was curt and pretended not to care.
Salams to you, your family, and to those whom you love.
God knows me best and He’ll be the judge–
The bird was strong, fast, and agile–
So she vanished from the sky no longer feeling so fragile.
She found a big, safe tree,
A new branch, and she was able to flee.
Its leaves protruding with pearled dewy buds,
awaiting the early warm rays to come flood.
As the sun came out, just after I finished my early prayers–
The birds peeped bright morning declares.
And you stayed asleep
Not remembering how much you had glared.
Forgiveness is not always given.
Forgiveness is not always seen.
But I forgive you; seventy excuses that come for free.
My heart is consoled and mind is cleared–
I slowly drift to sleep.
To a hum hum chirp and a tweet tweet peep.