Where were you when the fires rose up?
Where is the image before it shows up?
Seeds are deep-buried, far from the light,
somehow the shoot germinates and knows up.
Where did the sundial's shadow disappear to?
Clocks wind down and a child grows up.
Tell me if you know the final answers
why stones fall and water never flows up.
Where has yesterday's caravan gone,
footprints hidden by the dust that blows up?
Shopkeepers shut their doors and windows
sun's going down and it's time to close up.
I am dust and a shadow walking.
Call me, Lord, as my spirit goes up.
By Tiel Aisha Ansari
Tiel Aisha Ansari is a Sufi, martial artist, and data analyst living in the Pacific Northwest. Her work has appeared in Islamica Magazine, Mezzo Cammin, Untitled Country Review, The Lyric, Barefoot Muse, and the VoiceCatcher anthology from Portland Women Writers. Her poetry has been featured on KBOO, Prairie Home Companion and MiPoRadio and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Her collection Knocking from Inside is available from Ecstatic Exchange. You can visit her online at knockingfrominside.blogspot.com.