The fetters in my soul are
an unspoken agreement between two worlds
an obligation to fulfill the purpose
crafted for me by a God
who left me with no puzzle pieces nor hints
on how to read the map I was given
with paths that all seem to be in
a foreign language
that I cannot seem to decipher
He has trusted in me
to live the life I was destined to
to follow a path of righteousness
to pray three times a day-
to memorize Surahs until they drip off my
lips like nectar
to feed the happiness of my Lord
to be honest and just
and kind and pure
but I think He may have forgotten
my sharp tongue he carved
to contrast my honey eyes perfectly
and the rage that burns inside my veins
waiting to ignite a war
I have committed to a life where
I must press my head to the prayer mat in prostration
to become the soil on a forest floor
and understand my insignificance and great influence
on the lives of others
because every person I touch becomes
a part of me
I adopt their idiosyncrasies until
it is clear that we are all so similar
we are all created from a single soul
just like He told us
Every soul I latch on to
like an anchor in the storm of
this physical life
has been a gift from the God above
my creator has left part of Himself inside me
shackling me to the understanding
that I am His
and His alone
to serve,
to worship,
to love.
Throughout this year, I have really been interested in writing about an aspect of my life that seems to be a constant blur, which is religion. My views are so different from those of everyone around me, and sometimes I don’t even understand what I believe. However, even when I attempt to convince myself otherwise, I feel some form of connection to a higher power. I don’t know if this is to a God or to a fantasy, but whatever it is, I’m trying to hold on to it. I wish I could have the kind of unwavering faith that keeps an individual grounded and content with their choices in life, and I wish I could believe in a divine plan that connects every person on Earth. Perhaps, someday, I’ll reach this stage of life, but until then, my ideas are misty and full of uncertainty.
Dear Alysha,
I cannot help but fall in love with whatever you write. To idolize your thinking. Your knowledge and insight always contains this fragment of pure honesty and dedication, it is truly admiring. This piece of yours has really resonated within me. I cannot be grateful enough to you for putting something like this out there, as I can say with full certainty that I feel the same way. The feeling of being lost in the first stanza, not knowing what to do when you aren’t given anything, this especially is something which I loved.
“He has trusted in me to live the life I was destined to..” This is the line where I can feel my reality and fantasies slowly merging to become one. This is where I feel I fell in love with the piece entirely, allowing myself to be engulfed with its enlightenment.
The tiniest suggestion I could possibly add to such magnificence would be to just give some detail as to what your image means. A lot of people will be unable to tell what is written there, and they may not be able to see it in the light I do. But still, I cannot express myself enough, it is perfect.
Thank you Alysha. For the constant insight you provide. I think I understand just how hard it is to be told to accomplish something with no form of direction, indication, or anything of any sort. This feeling of being lost has stuck with me, as I feel it has with you, since a very young age. But I now have something with which to remind myself of my duties. That, he whoever is the master, has trusted in me. And thanks to you, I have the motivation to never let him down.
Thank you once more, and never stop writing! I definitely believe that you, being the utter genius that you are, will be able to reach that level as to which everything makes sense. After doing that, please write about it…I’ll always be waiting to read more!
Sincerely,
Muhammad
Dear Alysha,
You probably already know how much I bloody love your poetry. It’s so intimidatingly beautiful. This poem was no exception. I appreciate the subject matter– the contrast between reality and expectations and its correlations with religion.
ESPECIALLY ADORE, “but I think He may have forgotten/my sharp tongue he carved/to contrast my honey eyes perfectly/and the rage that burns inside my veins/waiting to ignite a war”
Lack of punctuation is also thoughtfully used, as I feel it adds to the sense of disorder and confusion that the narrator is experiencing when it comes to deciding what their true identity is.
Only thing I would offer in terms of improvement is adding a little bit more to your explanation at the bottom. But that might just be a nitpicky thing.
Love your poetry so much! Ahh!!
-Jade