Memories Of Egypt

As I returned to the masjid after a too long absence, women were arriving to prepare for breaking the Ramadan fast together.

I was invited to stay and eat with them, but I only wanted to pray in solitude. I need to attend to my internal wounds and find a way to heal them.

It made me need to cry when I saw their lovely, curly-haired children. One or more of my own could have joined them after a few seasons.

I would like dispensation to pray alone when no one else is present. I need to obtain that sense of Source and feel bathed as sink into its element.

For now, a prayer rug adorns an antique cabinet I collected, and I take occasional sustenance from Medjool Dates – reminding me of the homeland.