And Zahra cried; come my Hussain!

By: Sister Mardhiya

The red stained rosary beads,
at the time of noon,
chant in your love.
The severe pain,
embraces my chest,
as its mournful rhythm,
cuts through my heart,
stinging my inner soul.
What grief it wears,
the agony of which travels so far?
The melancholy wind;
the sorrowful hours of this midday,
O' Lord unveil the hidden saga!
The initiation of a momentary seclusion,
isolating me from nature's eye.
Drifted; like a memory,
back to the cradle of time.
Fire;
roaring in anger,
burning the tents.
Little children;
escaping the blaze,
under the shelter of Zainab's veil.
The pitiless onlookers watched;
as the orphan's were whipped,
and leveled to the ground.
Their tiny ear lobes,
flooded with blood,
as looters seized their rings.
I blocked my vision,
with my hands,
for my emotions could see no more.
Blind to the happenings,
when I heard the words of God,
being uttered in the best tone.
I looked around,
where angels had spread their wings,
collecting Hussain's holy blood.
Below the pointed spear,
a distressed mother,
cried with relief;
" Come my Hussain, return to my lap;
with my bruised lips, I shall kiss your every wound! "
A final parting with Kerbala,
as the scene faded away.
Back in my hand,
the red stained rosary bead,
weeping for the tragedy,
of which God, is its saviour.
Salutations to you,
who prostrated on a bed of arrows.