The Sacred Black Stone Poem by Mohammad Younus

The Sacred Black Stone

The sacred black stone, found in the sacred land,
Was slowly placed by Abraham,
Upon the plinth of the House of God,
Where once roamed freely around,
Wild pagans, adoring the stone images,
Of oldies smoked by the temple fire,
So much has changed, so many traditions lost,
But the Blackstone remains at it's own place,
Though smashed many a time,
By believers and infidels both,
Is there some mystic power in the black coloured stone?
Yet still, the pilgrims go around chanting,
I am here O God, I am here O God,
Ancient memories return from old files,
The hymnsof forefathers echo across the mind,
The cool breeze moves in scorching heat -
Generated by the Hot sun above,
And the rounds of the devotees below,
Time will pass and piligrims will rebuild,
The holy temple on the old plinth,
And renew the old sacred traditions,
Shitty monarchs holding the shrine for their power -
They will be replaced by the righteous ones,
The distant voices chant aloud,
The black stone no thief can ever steal,
Hidden power shall heal the wounded hearts,
It is no myth, this powerful miracle is real!
The black stone is more than a stone studded in the wall,
The Great God lives and is present,
So say the pilgrims,
Allahuma Labaika, Allahuma Labaika,
As if the black stone speaks -
Welcoming my soul,
I see mellow sound,
Coming from Blackstone in my heart,
It calms my bruised soul, makes me feel whole,
Before your journey passes and you return to dust,
Visit the temple of your heart,
Embedded with the Blackstone,
Walk alone to the temple, all alone,
Without holding the hands that exist not,
Feel the power and mystery of the Great One God

Mykoul