My love for this land to them I can’t explain
This land’s dust felt the tears of Ummul Baneen
On its soil my soul prays… it is more than about graves
* * *
They asked me, why are you Shia so obsessed?
Over stones and brick why are you so distressed?
I replied, as the land’s cold dust I caressed
You can never know what this land once possessed
This is dust that by buried bodies is blessed
Figures that Allah Himself came and addressed
They need not stone or brick, a shrine or a dome
It is me who needs their shrines to call my home
Scents of their shrines my soul craves… it is more than about graves
* * *
They told me, focus on the world you live in
Why care so much of those dead and forgotten?
I said, they’re more real than all of creation
You may die, but they live again and again
When I see their graves demolished and broken
It’s as if the Ka’ba itself has fallen
I should see grand shrines but just see dust instead
It’s like they’ve torn down the grave of Muhammad
Truly the darkest of days… it is more than about graves
* * *
They said, as if I don’t, worship God alone
I said, were not for them, God I’d not have known
You can’t tell the difference between God and stone
Maybe you and not me for shirk should atone
We have narrations that to you stay unknown
To visit them is like visiting God’s throne
Before we stand by their graves we testify
There’s no God but God and on Him we rely
Their love in us Allah weighs… it is more than about graves
* * *
They said, to visit graves is shirk, I object
The graves I visit still praise God and reflect
The People of the Cave when again they slept
Had a mosque built over them out of respect
You say shirk, and yet when wishes we request
At their graves we see Allah Himself accept
Those that die in the way of God have not died
When you die you turn to dust, they turn to light
Their light continues his praise… it is more than about graves
* * *
A grave a man’s sanctity and legacy
A sign he lived a life left to history
‘He here was born, lived and here, he passed away’
To raze a grave is to raze a man’s story
You razed the graves of Muhammad’s family
Yet the grave of Ibn Taymiyah stands proudly
You revere your Sheikh above God’s beloved ones
One rule for you, one rule for these shining suns
Your father’s grave still remains… it is more than about graves
* * *
My love of this land to you I can’t explain
Here Ummul Baneen would recite for Hussain
Her tears bled into its dust and fed its grains
Baqi’ is as Shia as Zuhair Ibn Al-Qayn
You destroyed these graves and nothing would you gain
Like Ibn Muljim and Shimr Ibn Al-Jowshan
Just like Ibn Muljim struck Ali in prayer
Just like when Hussain’s neck Shimr would sever
To your hatred you are slaves… it is more than about graves
* * *
I sit in Baqi and hear Ummul Baneen
Baqi is a kingdom and she is its queen
While you cannot perceive the unseen
I hear her lamenting our beloved Hussain
And their greatness makes me of one thing certain
There’ll one day be glorious domes here again
There’ll be millions coming to honour these shrines
Your light will extinguish while theirs will still shine
Like Pharoah, lost to their waves… it is more than about graves
* * *
(London – 21/06/18)