Medinian Blues
By Zaynab Noor Mufti, MSc Political Thought
We visited, we prayed, and then we were asked to leave
And now we know what it’s like to grieve
Face me with misfortune or losing a limb
I’d take it any day over leaving him
But we will return and walk the land
Smell the heat and the musk in our hands
The scent of the Messenger lingering through time
We will return with the permission of the Divine
We will walk in the footsteps of the man
Who held with him the hearts of mankind
Who’s legacy preserved we find
Etched in the city’s cracks and crooked lines
Who played in markets with his boys
As his laughter echoes with the sweetest noise
We will taste the salt in the air
From his tears that constantly cared
About men and women, he’d never met
About children to come and better yet
We will rest in the places where he laid his head
Under tall date trees where he broke his bread
We will follow in the path that he tread
As he walked to the Almighty in the life that he led
And we will prostrate where he too placed his head
We will return to the land built on his blood
As he fought for our faith, for we are his beloved
As he braved the trenches and the swords and the battle scars
We will return to the land, the city lit up by the stars;
His companions threw themselves in harm’s way
To protect his life and ensure his message remained till today
We will eat from the trees that he planted with his own hands
In gardens so vast, where his legacy stands
We will climb the mountains that he made shake
Stand on the rocks that couldn’t take the weight
Of his blessed character, because he was Muhammad the Great
(Peace and blessings be upon him)
And we did
We visited, we prayed, and then we were asked to leave
And now we know what it’s like to grieve
To be in the land where his close ones died
Where victories were won and celebratory cries
Were heard through the streets
And the faithful ones weeped
For the oneness of God was proclaimed
And His commandments were ordained
We will return to the city where we watch the sun set between minarets
And the call to prayer is loud and clear
Rung with pride all these years
Where it wakes up the sleeping one so that he may stand in line
To attest to the greatness of the Most-High and the Messenger as a sign
Where the community of the faithful hold him so dear
Where we send him Salaam (Arabic, lit: peace) standing so near
Where our tears drop in the same spots as his
Where our voices ring in the same air that his did
Where we seek the same closeness to God as him
Where we whisper to God in our prayer, following his actions to the tee
We will return so that we may see
His legacy as it stands today
And drink from the spring that he also sipped
And walk under the sun where his blessed sweat dripped
And we did
We visited, we prayed, and then we were asked to leave
And now we know what it’s like to grieve
So, oh pilgrim who makes his way
Know that there will come a day
Where you’ll leave this all behind
And as you exit the city with him in mind
Just take a piece back in your heart
So that you can bare the pain of being apart
From the one who filled the city with light
And by remembering his strength and might
We continue our journey and build our lives
And upon whose wisdom our faith will thrive
Because if the trunks of the trees couldn’t help but weep
When the beloved departed, my Lord, what about those like me?
So, dearest pilgrim
In your own town when you prepare to leave
Pack your bags, but just be ready to grieve.
Photo Caption: The Garden of Salman al-Farsi which contains 300 date-palm trees, the seeds of which were planted by the Prophet (PBUH)(Photo Credit: Zaynab Mufti)
