Written by Laili Abdeen
Laili perches on the paradoxes of life, translating them into words while simultaneously untangling them through poetry. When she’s not procrastinating an assignment or marking a bunch of essays, Laili and a dedicated team run an open mic named Layl Ash-Shayr to elevate Muslim writers and creatives in Singapore. She was featured in the 2022 Singapore Writers Festival and has a poem published in Mahogany Journal’s third edition: Soundscapes. You can read more and connect with her @lails_lit.
They say souls have memories that precede the body, remembering and drifting towards each other before the lips thrust out the words "best friends". It wraps its head around its mate, circling and snaking up in wisps till all you see of them is the mirage you want. The soul rejoices in familiar meetings.
But nothing touches my soul more than the feeling of forehead on ground, clay upon dirt, two forms moulded into one earth as I prostrate on my knees to You. Earth upon earth, I forget where my body starts and Your world ends. Mud upon mud, we blend into one, both Your creations, gravitating around the Sun.
The Moon envies us as we bury our faces in its shadows, sparkling stars whisper its amazement at our fervour. Night upon night, we find ourselves in prostration, towards Your home, the monochrome rubix cube fitting all the puzzles of this world into Your path.
Light upon light, the Sun shines its way through, past sobbing and promises of the night left askew. Thobes and abayas switched out for uniforms. They swarm the trains and fiddle with their phones, longing once again for the secret covenant too soon gone.