I Do Not Worship Poem by Mohammad Younus

I do not worship—
a deaf, mute, and blind God.
I do not seek Him in the loudness of prayers,
nor in the counting of steps to sacred houses.
I do not call to Him with hymns and rituals,
but in the quiet chamber of my heart—
where I meet Him in silence, dissolving my self.

If you believe in the God of mercy,
yet cradle hatred,
if your words deceive,
and your mind wanders dark alleys of illusion,
if your hands bring harm and chase the fleeting,
then your devotion is but an empty shell,
your religion a hollow frame.

Kindness, compassion, love, peace, and empathy—
these are the real golden principles of spirituality.
Without them, prayers are breathless wild songs.
Without them, the light within fades.

You cannot call yourself devout
while your eyes turn from suffering.
You cannot speak of God's love
while bitterness roots in your heart.
Faith is not a mask for Friday or Sunday,
but the quiet, steady hum of love in motion,
expressed in every act, each day.

The essence of the divine path
lies in sincerity.
It breathes in the smile offered to the poor,
in the hand that lifts the fallen,
in forgiveness given without weight,
in the voice raised for the oppressed.

If your faith does not soften you,
does not make you gentler,
does not guide you to truth,
then perhaps it is custom, not conviction.

Where lies and cruelty tread,
where judgment strikes,
God is absent—
only the shadow of pride remains.

Spirituality is not measured
by the straightness of your stance,
the depth of your bow,
or how low your forehead rests in prostration—
but by how deeply you care,
how freely you share wisdom and warmth.
Faith is carved in the touch of your hands,
the gaze of your eyes,
the echo of your words,
woven in peace and harmony.

Do not seek to appear holy—
seek to grow wholly.
The divine listens not to perfect recitations,
but to the love rippling through your deeds.

If faith does not soften your heart,
stretch your patience,
or call forth honesty,
then you worship stone, not al-Haq—
rules, not the Gracious God.

It is this faith, this love,
that will echo in eternity.
This is the meaning of "Yes, my Lord, "
spoken on the Day of Alast,
when asked: 'Am I not your Lord? '

— MyKoul