Between Safa and Marwa… Hajar she finds Fatima
She asks her for some water… from one mother to another
* * *
O’ lady of light I’m Hajar… of my status the Quran speaks
Women of all times know me… she who inspiration seeks
Yet with this status known to all… answer the tears on my cheeks
Would you bare to see your son
Alone beneath the desert sun
And his cries answered by no-one?
Tell me O’ lady of light… what weight upon his mother?
* * *
This the father of the Arabs… a light no man can conceal
In the eyes of his mother… at her son’s feet, kings they kneel
Men in reference to my own womb… call themselves sons of Ismael
Yet with such a great title
Still calls hardship and trial
Still pierces him thirst vile
Yet with such a name and future… still I have to beg for water
* * *
O’ lady of light forgive me… but my hardship would you perceive?
To see within your own child… the pangs of thirst circle and weave
To see in his innocent eyes… that his coming death he believes
To see him by his death circled
His neck strangled by thirst’s chord
As if sits on this neck a sword
Is this not a unique story… unknown to past and to future?
* * *
O’ Hajar, Fatima replies… hold my hand, O’ grieving mother
I see your eyes ridden with pain… hardship shared with no other
Yet let me tell you of my grief… one mother to another
Your son’s thirst, it shall be quenched
The pangs of his sorrow unclenched
And only by tears he’ll be drenched
Replace those tears with his own blood… and Ibrahim’s son with Haider’s
* * *
You shall be tested by your Lord… to see if you’d sacrifice all
Yet after it, healthy he’d rise… not from his own horse he’d fall
His father shall be beside him… not an unheard final call
Your eye won’t have to see slaughter
Neither will cry a lone sister
And attacked won’t be his daughters
For if these events would play out… they’d make weep Safa and Marwa
* * *
Hajar know Safa and Marwa… till times end will stand side by side
Whilst my Marwa’s fallen on dust… my Safa alone would reside
Circled by thirst and by arrows… in only dead he’ll confide
Tell Ismael of Hussain
His brother’s hands scattered on plains
And alone with death he remains
Hajar embrace my grieving heart… and send your tears to Karbala
* * *
O’ Hajar, your son Ismael… the Arabs he has fathered
But Heavens youth, which means them all… by my son shall be mastered
Yet his mother must on him weep… when swords on him have gathered
After his neck a devil harms
I must hold him within my arms
A son’s blood stains his mother’s palms
His daughters cry as they are slapped… come and see us O’ Hajar
* * *
(London – 08/10/11)