My days are laced in lillies,
My steps, an amusement park,
Not knowing what ride I will take,
Or where it will take me,
But that’s where the thrill arrives,
It comes pulls on my veins,
Electrifying my skin,
My atoms dancing in rhythm to zikr,
a prayer not encapsulated through dogma,
only freedom,
The details of this earth,
Is where the stories are kept,
Where the hidden treasures lie,
It’s in the sand, in the mud below us,
It’s in the roots that grow into first shoots,
Then thrive into stems,
which bloom into the bounty that is flowers and fruit,
what gifts lie on this earth,
that which we take for granted,
we eat luscious vegetation,
not knowing the hands it grew from,
the story of the earth stemming from seed,
The same as birth,
The womb,
The holy vessel of pleasure and pain,
A container given from the Gods for the sacredness bound in love,
Two souls riveting an exchange,
For both the sweeping ritual of making love,
and Gods testament in birthing children,
What can be sweeter than the gift of life?
Our bodies,
a warground for memory,
our tissues soak up history,
like textbook and water,
its edges where lay the innocence of children,
how we must protect them at all costs,
we are energetic beings,
may you be protect that which is around you,
and within you