FaithPosted: October 28, 2013
you taught me to pray, the words
and offering to the Divine: a God
who kept you safe when we couldn’t –
now I speak: a different language;
I take your prayers, fashion them
into riddles: questions on faith,
but I seem faithless to holy men.
I am shot through with doubt,
racked with guilt. I take my last touch,
of fingertips to your cold skin;
your hair catches; I drop your shroud.
I clasp my trembling palms and weep.
Marziya Mohammedali is a writer, photographer, teacher and designer currently based in Perth, Western Australia. More of her work can be found on her website: kikei.net