"الله اكبر" The witr prayer, subsequent to the shafe'h prayer.
You all stood, line by line, shoulder by shoulder, heads bowed, arms raising slowly with hands held up towards our savior, in a way that resembled a pauper in need asking for the king's sincerity.
Freedom slaves.
"اللهم اهدني، فيمن هديت" The imam's voice, harmonized by the quiet whispers of "Amen" coming from different ages, different voices, different races, all together sycned as one. "وعافني فيمن عافيت" The soft purrs, elevated the masjid. You are all one. You all stood togehter, as the emotions in the imam's heart poured out to his voice, the tears stretched down the lines, and then back forth again. But we were not alone.
Millions of masjid' spread like blossoms worldwide, with millions of people standing together, with hands raised to the sky, asking; like the indigent people that we all are, for heaven, for happiness, for freedom, for eternal paradise, for seeing our brothers, our sisters, our mothers and fathers joy in the land where happiness is eternal. And picture them, the people with tears shedding down even the manliest of all men's cheek, to the God that we stand so impotent to.
Picture the beauty of neglecting the fact that we are from different ethnicities, or the fact that the millionare stood side by side, with the man that had a few crumbs in his pockets.
As the prayer ended, the form the impotent soldiers possessed, broke apart, revealing once again, the jell-like form we all hold, and waves of people gathered by the door.
Freedom slaves.
"اللهم اهدني، فيمن هديت" The imam's voice, harmonized by the quiet whispers of "Amen" coming from different ages, different voices, different races, all together sycned as one. "وعافني فيمن عافيت" The soft purrs, elevated the masjid. You are all one. You all stood togehter, as the emotions in the imam's heart poured out to his voice, the tears stretched down the lines, and then back forth again. But we were not alone.
Millions of masjid' spread like blossoms worldwide, with millions of people standing together, with hands raised to the sky, asking; like the indigent people that we all are, for heaven, for happiness, for freedom, for eternal paradise, for seeing our brothers, our sisters, our mothers and fathers joy in the land where happiness is eternal. And picture them, the people with tears shedding down even the manliest of all men's cheek, to the God that we stand so impotent to.
Picture the beauty of neglecting the fact that we are from different ethnicities, or the fact that the millionare stood side by side, with the man that had a few crumbs in his pockets.
As the prayer ended, the form the impotent soldiers possessed, broke apart, revealing once again, the jell-like form we all hold, and waves of people gathered by the door.
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