The Azan Song
Maghrib or Coldplay?
Coldplay I choose.
Let it be for another moment.
Another second of the known feeling.
Another moment away from Him.
The repeated call for betterment.
But what about the repetition of feeling?
Of relating one’s own
to the obscurest of someone else’s.
Someone else who’s flesh and blood.
And yet I enjoy the ambiguity better.
Better than the clarity of the Unknown.
Guilt but no guilt.
For I’m human and He’s God,
and I understand humans better.
Better than I understand Him.
And who’s He kidding?
Does He really want to be known fully?
Isn’t He unknowable Himself?
Guilty, not guilty.
And so, I choose.
I choose to relate to His unknowingness.
But was it really me who chose
or Him who chose to choose for me?
For if He has full control,
and I just the crumbs of choice,
then it’s all on Him.
And yet it’s me who feels guilty.
And yet I choose to lose control.
And bow down in submission.