A Mosque in Christchurch

(Intended as spoken-word)

They say that the gasp of war and the sigh of love are one in the same.
They have never felt what it is like to gasp for air at the news of the violent loss of your loved ones.
They must not know what its like to have the air ripped from your lungs by a gunman with an idea that your people are a plague.
And when we tell them,
Your words are violence
They respond with silence
And when their words become bullets,
Scattered across our bodies as we pray
They will say
How did this happen?

It lingers between us
Sometimes it
Suffocates us
When the hate
Becomes like poison in the air
And sometimes it cuts us
On the fear
That shards of glass
Infiltrate our space
And our place
In this nation
Is questioned

But this humanity
You see,
It wasn’t intended
For just you or me
It was forged from love
And unity

Did you not hear him when he called out,
On plains of Karbala
“Is there no helper to help us?”
He wasn’t just calling for me or for you
He was calling for anyone
Black or blue
He called out,
And from it our love grew,
He created something,
No tyrant could undo
But yet here we are now
To him, we all mattered
But I can’t seem to shake the feeling that
Some lives matter more
No longer having the air to gasp at the war
Going on around us

Have you not heard?

That when a mosque in Europe,
Loses its safety,
When its walls
Become painted with the blood of the Friday congregation
That nation
They don’t even have the words left
To call out
“Isn’t there any helper to help us?”

But that woman, that woman outside that mosque in Christchurch, her last words were “help me, help me”

A mosque in Christchurch.
So now, from the sigh of love and gasp of war, if there can be unity,
Can’t you see?
In even such tragedy,
Between love and war, why can we not find unity,
Between you and between me?

Nur / March 15, 2019

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