When the last balloon is popped
The last slice of cake cut
The leftovers eaten for lunch
The outfit washed and folded away
The greetings quietened in the air
One celebration is over.
But for the eternal festival,
It will be a while till we meet again.
For now, we celebrate
Life, living, the blessings of faith
Year after year
The endless mercy of our Lord
Who has told us where to find ourselves,
In our own stories, in our forefathers.
If we tug at the thread of faith gently,
The All-Encompassing unravels it entirely to the seeker
The thread of faith spins and loops
And weaves us into the stories immortalised and sealed in scripture
Sacrifice, dedication,
Love, and loss
Have been spelled out to us
We have been told our own stories and given the endings
The human condition,
The rhythm of the universe
In an orchestrated harmony,
Willing or unwilling, humbled before the Creator
Like pieces of a puzzle and grooves on a key
We complete the rites training us for the bigger picture
Quietly fasting, praying, circumambulating
Nourishing the programming of our souls
With actions as natural as the growing grass
As passionate as the howling wind
As sustaining as the rain
As regular as the sun and moon
As fixed as day and night
As brilliant and sincere as the shining stars
Repeated, practiced, lived and honoured
Day after day
Unlocking and unleashing
More and more light and love…
Until the beginning of that next great festival.
When I reflect on Eid it can never just be about Hajj, the great pilgrimage, or just the story of Abraham. Years of history seem to merge, personal and universal tie themselves up in my mind. Stories of the prophets, the righteous, people we know and are yet to meet.
The history of faith, the energy that sets the universe humming with the grandeur of God, is embedded in every living thing that is and was. And like the seasons bring change and nature takes its course, people live and die, all created things are ultimately following the pattern of the Orchestrator.
Everything from a grain of sand, to the rhythm of night and day, to the voice that recites the word of God, to the number of units in a prayer, to a sacrificed animal, to the smiles on lips and fine materials of a dress on a day of celebration — all of these are as tied together as we once were to our mothers’ wombs.
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is a piece of the puzzle
Of the purpose of man
It’s a piece of the peace of Islam.
~ People of the Boxes, Dawud Wharnsby
Thank you very much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you thought of the piece and/or your feelings on Eid, Islam and the passage of time.
In sha Allah (God willing) I’m back now. I have a few pieces up my sleeve, trying things new and old and I very much hope you enjoy. ❤
