Why does the mu’adhan sound
so very sad tonight
as if he is mourning the dead
as if he could see inside my head?
Is there anything but tragedy in this life?
Is not even joy and laughter but a mockery of pain?
If I get everything I want here
what’s the point of jannah?
Is it possible to burn with desire
to see God’s face, and nothing else?
And if it were, how differently would I live?
Perhaps the mu’adhan would make me smile.
Or perhaps I’m imagining all this
because the winter maghreb is so early.