.بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
Dear friend,
I will love you through the darkness. I will.
You can take your bags and coats off here. Rest easy. Rest here a while, if you will.
Here, and as we are, I promise to love you. And when your world feels cold: we can keep each other warmer.
You light up my life. Please know this: you do.
I hope this makes sense to you. It’s like…
a candle, shaped as a heart. Take a match to the side of its own box, and set it on fire.
Have no fear; our sinking griefs. Set it alight. Watch it flicker, a flame: enduring, and a little unsteady.
And if your mind feels like it is on fire: peace, peace, no fear. We’ll stay with you: will you let us in a while?
Dear friend,
You have your fears. I know you do, and I know I have mine too. For when you go home, and close the door; when things feel more dark, more lonely.
Maybe a single hug is not enough to take your pain away. But the hearts who love your heart: we can try. Love you, and the way you smile. Love the endearing uncertainty in your hands. Love how you do things when you’re not really thinking about what you are doing.
Wait to hear the sound of your voice again, coming up the stairs.
Stay, for just a minute longer. Listen to you talk about that thing you did today, or what happened, or what somebody said; how things feel. I love the way you see the world; it hurts me if anybody ever hurts you.
And watch you grow: a beautiful man, a beautiful woman. My very own sister; brother. Lord, keep our hearts close. I won’t let you feel unloved, alone.
We sat and we ate on the floor. In near silence, there was love. And through darkness, there was love. She struggled, and she is loved. From the top of her forehead, down to the insides of her wrists. Food gathered on paper plates, shared out. Smiles, shared, and our words: seemed to pour out, at nice times. Made things lighter. Paper plates;
our human hearts. I know:
my shoulders aren’t so strong,
but I hope he and she always know, In Shaa Allah, that they’ve got we.
“The believers are but brothers.”
— Qur’an, (49:10).
