Sandy Shore

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

(sometime during Day 3 or 4 of Hajj)

you're the sand on my beach,

   without which

   I would never be complete.

for what is a shore,

   what scene can it make,

   if everything is there,

   but has no sand

   to put what's left in place?

it's not about stepping into

   or out of,

   you're what my waves 

   mix with,

   when tides want to rush over or up.

when I try to

   fashion my sandcastle dreams,

what do you think they're made of?

   If not all that you mean? 

there are no accidents,

   no missed timings,

just as a miner finally mines

   from his diamond's rough,

what his Rabb kept safe;

   the best worth finding. 

from this sandy shore,

   with these innumerable grains,

   whether in midst of day

   or in shade of night,

is my gaze drawn up

towards our Sky,

   where lives its goal:

the spark to Life.