As the setting sun said goodbye,
And shut his eyelids for the night,
The moon said, 'Salam! It’s time to rise!'
Called to the stars, 'Lets fill the skies!'
'On a long adventure let us go
Cities and towns let's go explore!'
Off she sailed across the sky,
By low valleys and mountains high.
Silver she painted the roofs and trees
Silvery waves making silvery seas.
As she looked upon cities fast asleep,
Towns and villages in slumbers deep;
All of a sudden from the edge of her eye,
A tiny gold light, in the distance she spied.
Who could be up at this late, late hour?
Over this window she paused to hover.
Two faces were shining, emanating light.
Two hands raised in prayer, a wonderful sight.
One face: a lady’s so peaceful and calm.
The other: a little boy, quiet by her arm.
The moon looked around this simple, small room
Two millstones, a stove, a mat and a broom
And nothing besides - the room was bare
Yet shining! She thought - rich beyond compare!
The moon waited - patient. She heard the lady say:
'God help my neighbours each step of the way.
The hungry the poor the lonely the needy
The traveller the orphan, the sick and weary.
God, feed them and keep them all safe from harm’s way
God, ease their pain, I beseech you, I pray.'
A beautiful prayer, thought the moon as it lingered
And heard the little boy, soft, as he whispered,
'What about us mum? Shall we pray for us?'
His mother smiled gently, 'Yes, let’s pray for us …
Now that we’ve asked God for peace on our neighbours
It is time to beseech Him for Mercy on ours.
Remember, it’s selfish to pray for ourselves
Before we seek God’s blessings for those around us.'
Faces lifted, hands rose, lips parted again
In prayer for self: Allah, You hold the rein
Of life. Control our thought, action and speech;
Steer and direct our course so we may reach -
You – O Fashioner, O Origin and Destination –
Perfected: forged, hammered, shaped - patient
Worthy, tranquil souls, at peace with Your Will.'
The moon tarried longer - curious and still.
'Who are these two graceful people?' she thought
Who've traded their sleep, seeking closeness to God?'
A passing star whispered: 'Fatima and Hasan.'
The Prophet's daughter and her little son.'
What a privilege it is thought the moon in a daze
To witness this amazing moment of praise
'May Allah's peace be on them.' the star heard her say.
As once more on her journey she drifted away.