Splitting the Moon. Joel Hayward

spoke your words quietly to friends and strangers

      With the force of a hurricane, unnoticed, so soft

      While I knew that the wind would tug later at thoughts

      And poke hearts with gentle fingers on the hand of life

All in All

      Great whales’ hearts thud

      Allah … Allah

      Eight times

      Each grey

      Minute

      The hummingbird calls

      Faster, much faster

      The name in

      A whir of

      Acclamation

      Knuckly stiff fingers

      Count misbahah beads

      In resin while

      The mind strokes

      Each for a second

      A baby’s colic cry

      And a mother’s

      Soft shushing

      Hold a meaning

      Understood

      The aches of the

      Lonely and penitent

      Are never felt

      By only

      One

      In everything lives

      The memory of

      An echo of

      that First word

      “Be”

Florida Pastor

      Tool, cruel, mistaken fool, grabs for fame, causes shame

      Christ would cringe, this done in his name

      Flames winning, Shaytan grinning, charred mess, success

      Promise spoken, entirely broken, failed a single test

      Eyes blind, blackened mind, should’ve read the book

      A tiny pyre, the world’s ire, three minutes all that it took

      Wanted, gained, anger blamed on Muslims always hated

      Love missing, wisdom dismissing, happy with Muslims baited

      Anger unbound, fists pound, Shaytan fanning the flames

      Control left behind, grief in mind, anger pulsing in veins

      Streets swollen, crowds emboldened, victims caught in rage

      The irony is, the book forbids this, hatred not on a page

      Message ignored, calmness abhorred, playing into his hands

      World worse for that man’s curse, tension sadly expands

      One copy alight, one billion alright, their power even greater

      God’s mighty word, always heard, untouched by one Muslim hater

Prayer in Peterborough

      Long John Silver

      With eyes aged like stars

      In my mosque, on a crutch

      Subhana Rabbi al-A‘la I whisper past bent knees

      He has one and sits in God’s sight

      On a chair wearing purity

      And whispers too and smiles

      Not at me or others but at the One

      Who took his leg and gave him a prop

      Bright-eyed adventurer watching

      The horizon searching for land

      Where rivers flow beneath

      And upon its white shore of sand

      He’ll leave footprints as he strides

      Long John Silver

      With diamonds that see

      In my mosque, on a crutch

      Rabbana Lak al-Hamd He responds in a mind full of gold

      Beneath God’s words in a dome

      While light stretches to reach his cheek

      And strokes it with a mother’s love

      As I echo three words and smile

      Not at him or others but at the One

      Who gave him more than he lost

      White haired voyager gazing eyes closed

      A journey stopping without ending

      When he sinks upon young knees

      And scoops living water from the source

Thank You

      Eyes squinted at the sun for the merest moment

      It remained emblazoned inside closed lids

      For longer than the squint then faded

      When I turned away

      Prayers climbed to You from a plaintive heart

      You Oh Allah shone down upon me brighter

      Radiance greater and without fading

      When I rose from my knees

      Eyes without a blink gazed up at a cool moon

      My thoughts rose and brushed its ice-white face

      And You Oh Allah returned warm answers

      When I asked what all things mean

      Anxieties sailed out beyond the ocean’s only line

      You Oh Allah raised a breeze to fill the sails

      And You sent me comfort on lapping waves

      Whenever life caused deeper footprints

That City That Day

      I saw fear in Leicester

      Sons and fathers whispering

      Sentries standing guard

      Mosques and shops

      Empty inside crowded outside

      I saw suspicion in Leicester

      Waiting eyes watching

      Looking for the arrival

      Sighing with resignation

      Minds chanting prayers

      I saw calmness in Leicester

      Brothers as bars on a steel rail

      Older steadying younger

      Wisdom with beards

      Jaws clenched and no fists

      I saw democracy in Leicester

      Permissiveness in uniform

      Reluctant toleration

      Authority manifest