On this tempestuous night
I have been swallowed by a
Deep whirlpool,
A vortex of the deepest despair –
Hatred and disgust
Wash into my lungs
Like unwanted air.
They say I am a
Malcontent,
That my drowning
Is self-inflicted, suicide.
But when my forehead
Kisses the ground in
Prostration
I know that this darkness
Is decreed by You.
So that I may raise
All that I have:
These empty, meagre hands in
Submission.
As the effusion of tears
Gather as pools in the palms of
My cupped hands,
The storm in my eyes
Is drained.
There emerges a light
Like the Morning Star.
This is the greatest sign of
Your Providence.
Hafsah Zamir is an aspiring poetess and author. She blogs at http://esotericsips.blogspot.co.uk
