In a dream, desire thus manifest –
Here, Little Child, you stand before your Guide.
You tremble and teeter:
Small, insignificant a sprout in front of thy Lord.
He smiles down knowingly and reaches for you;
In His palm you are cupped,
Upon His lap you are brought…
Everything you’ve ever held in concern melts
like snow in spring, like ice near fire.
But when He speaks, you shudder with guilt.
He asks, Little Child what is it?
You look up in spite of yourself
Into the mirror, you see your truth
You’ve been afraid, you tell Him.
He nods, it is so.
You’ve been uncertain, you divulge.
He nods, it is so.
You’ve been angry, you confess.
He nods, it is so.
You’ve been morose, you admit.
He nods, it is so.
You’ve been lonely, you disclose.
He nods, it is so.
You’ve been lost, you acknowledge.
He nods, it is so.
But you’ve also slowed down, you remember.
He nods, it is so.
You’ve also been transiently distracted, you muse;
You’ve also had few worldly worries
and plenty of comfort, you realize;
You’ve been better off than most
and still in possession of health and faculty, you contemplate.
He nods, it is so, it is so.
He asks again, what is it Little Child?
It is You, you reveal. It is silence. It is distance.
It is hindrance that prevents you from communing with Him.
But I am here – He points to your wee heart.
And you know that the entire universe cannot contain Him
Yet the heart of a true believer is enough.
So why does it feel like this exalted home is squeezed tight?
You remember the blinders and you are sad again.
You remember how circumstance has become both noose and handcuff.
You see it in your mind how you knock on the door
of the Lord’s house but cannot enter;
You see it in your mind how you can no longer
deliver to his doorsteps a share of a meal cooked with your own hands;
You hear it in your mind the hollow words of solace
that tell you to be patient, to adhere to new rules.
But what it feels like to breathe the air, to live another day,
to eat another meal, to take all of His bounties
and not be able to express thanks or love in kind
– to not know what sins have built a wall so solid
you cannot find your way to Him by means of mehmani –
is pain confounded and compounded in every minute of every day of isolation.
No wonder you’re so lost, so alone, so angry, so confused and uncertain.
Your anchor in this sea of love has run ashore in a desert
and you just don’t know what to do,
you just don’t know how to turn the ship around and sail into His arms.
You just don’t know, anymore.
You implore Him wordlessly. He smiles that ever patient smile.
…it is so.
Zafeera Kassam is an Ismaili murid and teacher by profession, living in Nairobi. She hopes to be continuously inspired to write praises of our beloved Hazar Imam for as long as she can.
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