Shadows dim the corner where he quietly sits
Eyes shut, soft murmurs slipping pass lips parched
The carpet is plush, his lithe frame skirting soft surface
Light green tasbih in his hands, finger moving the beads
A rhythmic beat, voicelessly synching
The boys, all white dress
(So pure)
Were boisterous in their reading aloud
Scriptures, faith forming in words
(So melodic)
Unchanged untouched its meaning resolute
Though generations have passed
(So long ago)
He misses the beduk, thinks the whispery one
Beats increasing in crescendo
Signaling an ending of a day of piety
Forsaking in life’s pleasures
Fulfilling a call a devotion
Of a month cherished
Of days much awaited
Of hours so relieved
Of minutes so blissful
The boys, working to be tahfiz
(How blessed)
Their readings stopped, they canter
(Still so childlike)
Finding a place to congregate to group
Awaiting the closure of another day
(So soon)
Of fasting compulsory
He smiles, stood up joining the now busy
Taking their places, drinks and food at the ready
Strangers amongst friends, relatives between families
In celebratory mood, another day passed
A day in Ramadhan
A day of Rahmah
A day of Barakah…
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