Reflections Of The Night

The worry was there on the guys with the clipboard.
The target was high - it was half a million dollars.
The times were tough - it was a recession.
Yet, the speaker wasn't worried.
He knew the mosque wouldn't be let down.
At the end of the evening, the money raised was over a million.
Yes, it is our way.
THEY WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND.

It's just a month.
Is it over yet, they ask.
It's the night of the 27^th.
It's not over, but it feels like it.
It's sad, yet it's a night of bliss.
Yes, it is our way.
THEY WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND.

People's feet are swollen.
They stand all night.
The comfort of the bed beckons,
Yet the voice of the Qari is the one they respond to.
The Quran is over. The Quran is begun anew,
Grown men cry. Why? Silent tears are shed by the women.
Even the mischievous children are quiet.
Something momentous has taken place.
Yes, it is our way.
THEY WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND.

The community is all here.
Men, women, children of all ages.
It feels like Eid. Sweets are distributed.
It's midnight. Soon, the lot is empty.

Then it starts filling up again.
Into the starry sky, the crescent is playing hide and seek.
The 15-year-old is reciting the verses.
"Then which of your Lord's favors will you deny?"
It's almost morning.
The faithful are fed.
The CEO a neighbor of the sweeper, eating on the floor.
That night, the building is full of people.
Yes, it is our way.
THEY WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND.
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A week has passed.
It's the time of the night prayers.
Faithful are called for prayers.
Only a handful have shown up.
Yes, it is also our way.
Perhaps, WE, do not understand.