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evening call

I donít need the darkness
To tell me the time.
I listen to the cries
Of birds, winging it home
To the nest in the tree
That taps at my window
At prayer times,
Reminding me
As the wind sounds out the calls:

Radio gospel from down the road,
Incense burning, curling, unfurling
Wispy arms to grab at the unfaithful.
Even the sun submits to the time,
Bowing his great head and
Kneeling over landís edge.

In one ear, the church bell tolls;
In the other, I whisper the Adhaan.



© Marziya Mohammedali, 2001-2013