The Rug of Purification

By Nidah Chatriwala, TMO

You open me up and lay me down over dirt.

I silently spread without any discomfort.

Hope guides your feet onto me.

You take your position carrying the weight of yours sins as deep as the sea.

Intention veils your heart and mind.

You then recite verses that will please the Creator who is the most kind.

You praise Him in your bow.

You beg for His mercy here and now.

As an obedient slave, your forehead meets my chest.

Whispering your plea for guidance you prolong your prostration to experience rest.

Wrinkled hands swipe my velvet threads in reverse.

Daily chores and worries play in your mind making you feel worse.

You fight to stay focused.

Under all that darkness a faint hint of light is noticed.

Your life’s deeds and sins playback in your mind like a film.

You then question your status as a Muslim.

Tears carrying your request for forgiveness fall upon me.

Your fragrance merges with mine as you embrace me as a devotee.

Rituals continue until you have fulfilled the command of salaah.

Turning your head right and then left you offer salaam.

You brush past my shoulder to pick the necklace made up of beads.

Dropping them in the center of my heart, you then make dua to express your needs.

Time for departure gets near.

Your renewed emaan has now made you sincere.

Two folds is all it took for you to close me up before putting me back on the dusty shelf.

I am the rug of purification so forget me not or risk forgetting yourself.


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