Insha Allah, We Meet Again

Insha Allah, We Meet Again

The morning was bright, though I was not,

My mother approached me slowly and tentatively.

She told me that you were gravely ill, and it was terminal.

The air became heavy, it suffocated me.

Every memory I had of you blurred through my mind, while my chest crumpled like paper.

Then, we raced to you,

You were paler than a glacier, your eyes unfocused as if you were blind.

 “Daddy,” I sobbed.

When you spoke, your words were slurred.

As a drunken man.

“Hey ‘Yanna,”” You said softly.

Instantly, I broke into a raging rapid of tears.

I struggled to speak through my sobs, but I told you,

 As we always used to say, I loved you,

“Bunches and bunches more than the sky was blue.”

For two days, I stuck fast,

Holding onto every one of your breaths.

Even after you died.

It felt as if I were singing a song,

But stopped halfway through.

My fingers ached, but I felt as if holding your hand,

Was worth the pain.

Emotions etched into me like stone.

Missing you was like the pull of a black hole.

 Its relentless and everlasting.

You’ll always be a part of me,

Even when I grow old and the stars get cold.

Since we can’t be together,

I tucked you away in my heart.

Where I know, you’ll stay forever.

When we were children you would always say about paradise,

That you hoped to make it there one day.

I didn’t understand Islam at my young age,

But as I grew older it was evident, you were the type of father who was approaching the gates,

You stood for hours and rocked us to sleep, with John Coltrane and Wes Montgomery,

So, daddy when I say, this is not a goodbye,

But a, “Insha Allah, I’ll see you someday.”