falaq

[fleur_de_soleil]

beckon them, bilal
in the sweet coldness of dawn - 
the slow liquid limbed rise into the yet
dark, the faithful waiting
until the golden orb, al shams
rises dripping from her bath in the molten horizon;

throw your voice, bilal
deft and precise fingers reaching
into the bluegreen depths of slumber
to pick up the dropped threads
of His infinite tapestry

sing to them, bilal
to the rolling sands of the empty quarter
let your soaring descant beckon the
salt and tumult of the sea,
the very violence of monsoons
to come and kneel, before their
Architect

testify, bilal
into the shimmering dawn,
to our sweet unity within His
limitless ocean;
let your voice be the cool earthen jar
in which our songs are carried
to Him