Posted in Islam, Life, Religion, Uncategorized


The clouds recoiled from the eager eyes of Earth

Teasing them with specks of gold then retreating again

A shy child holding out her hand


then retreating to stand behind her mother

peeking from time to time behind her mother’s leg stealing glances at strangers

The land thirsted for a glimmer of hope.

A droplet

Waiting endlessly until

the perfect time

The people of the village peered at the sky through patient eyes

blocking the sun with hardened hands

signalling the end of a season

An eruption was simmering beneath the surface

Anticipation heightened as the sky began to shift

The sun, dominant and forbearing

was shrinking shrinking

The clouds thunderous and wide

-not in anger but more like a King’s welcome

the elderly, with their eyes closed, began to whisper prayers

the worried couple prematurely embraced in gratefulness

the children’s laughter interrupted by a slow, steady rumble.

Then an escaped, nervous giggle.

Silence sounded in warning

In the blink of an eye

gathering speed

the first drop

of new life




Hi, my name's Aisha and I am 24 years of age. I'm passionate about writing poetry. Sometimes, I don't know how to convey my thoughts in normal conversation but I can spin off a poem about what I am feeling in 5 minutes. Or less. Writing is my thing. Like it is a lot of people's 'thing' and sometimes the only 'thing' that is a sufficient outlet to stop us all from going crazy. There's a lot of pain and anxiety in my poems, but often relief, which I find hard to convey but manage to slip it in at the end with a reference from the Quran or a hadith. If you feel you recognise this same emotional attachment to words, then feel free to read my blog and do not hesitate to contact me, comment and subscribe! Peace, Aisha -a.K.a-

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