My hands raised before Allah,
I search for what to say,
To tell the story in my heart,
To express my love.
But I can’t put it together.
Words fail me.
My love is wordless and soundless,
It is a rare love,
Wordless love.
I open the Quran,
Allah calls out to me.
I stand up to pray,
my heart calls out to Allah.
It’s a two-way connection.
This love is not declared from my lips,
Or the movement of my limbs.
This love is light.
Burning brightly in the innermost reaches of my soul.
I know the mercy of Allah is ready to envelop me
even before I raise my hands to ask.
And when I can, I ask away.
Using my body and my voice.
I stretch my hands out, I beg, I cry.
That is the love from my body,
distilled into the form of tears.
Sometimes I whisper in seclusion,
sometimes I speak aloud.
But every time I can’t,
there is this wordless love.
The feeling of my heart expanding,
Beating,
Caught in a moment of pure submission.
This is the moment I live for.
This is the true form of my love.
