Poetry

Hearts of Gold

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It gives a new meaning to time,
This annual beauty, manifestly sublime
That transforms minds, purifies souls,
And turns rusty hearts into shining gold.

In subduing the animalistic,
We may see the truth of the materialistic.
From light to light do we refrain,
A different nourishment do we long to obtain.

What, then, is the matter with me?
I cry out in desperation and agony
Like a castaway, trying not to drown
In the waves of failure and fear that surround.

So my chipped gold, unmet goals,
Even my silver has faded away.
Bronze, rusted bronze, is all that remains,
Lining the core of my heart, a precious stone,
Like a barrier between me and my home.

Ramadan, my beloved friend,
By the grace of my Lord, we meet again.
May you be for me a time of change,
A turning point to rearrange my aims.

Let us polish, in this blessed month of Ramadan,
For our hearts to shine with the gold of iman.

***

When Ramadan comes around, we grow eager to purify ourselves. By the grace of our Lord, we have a yearly chance to elevate our hearts to a new level. It is a time when our triumphs seem so much greater. Yet, our failures seem so much more devastating, as if they have set us back even further into time. We feel responsible for the rusting of our hearts and the concurrent weakening of our iman. A person may falter to a point where they feel like they have been estranged from the multitude of good doers, as though they are not worthy of being in their company or taking part in this blessed time. The rust that lines their hearts overcomes them.

However, as long as even a moment of Ramadan remains, there is still hope to redeem ourselves. It’s not easy to be confident when we realize that we are falling short of our pre-Ramadan goals and becoming weary of the routine, but the struggle to keep going despite falling short is no less important than the good deeds we strive to attain. Only Allah knows how abundantly we may be rewarded just for that. We hope, on the Last Day, that we will greet our Lord with shining faces and polished hearts, deserving of the treasures of Jannah that we for so long housed in the chambers of our hearts.

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Aziza, lovingly named after her maternal grandmother, is a part-Indian, part-European Ohioan. With an interest in writing and learning more about her faith of Islam, she found her niche in MYM. She is excited to be able to communicate the cherished feelings in her heart. Through her pieces, she hopes to inspire not only Muslims, but non-Muslims alike.

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