There are days when the sun is on a chariot, bursting through the clouds.
And I am elevated enough to throw my head back and allow its rays to greet me.
Those same days I sweep down from that altitude to give my salaams to the city of grass that chippers in excitement when it sees me.
There are days when the clouds are too melancholy to part their wisps for the sun.
And I am elevated enough to feel them weeping warm rain.
Those same days I sweep down from that altitude to cry my tears to the cement, as it silently soaks up my tears in sympathy.
There are days when the clouds are dormant, the sun deciding to just rest behind them.
And I am elevated enough to hear the cool winds whispering, reminding me to reflect.
Those same days I sweep down from that altitude to talk to the crisp leaves that shuffle around on the ground and then decide to roll close towards me, eager to listen.
But every one of those days, my faith and trust are secured in one sole position, controlled with the utmost care.
Allah has created me a swing.