In the Mosque: The Call to Prayer

By Han Li Hwa

In the mosque down the street,
With their shoes off their feet,
People kneeling to pray
Often five times a day.
My heart breaks as I hear,
From far and from near,
From the towers, a call
For men, for women, and children, for all
To drop all they do,
And wish that He, who
Weighs good against bad,
Will see all they’ve done for the shabbily clad
And the prayers they’ve recited,
And journeys are taken, as hope is ignited.
“This is not enough,” I know will be heard,
“Perfection is needed though it may seem absurd.”
I have what they need,
And it’s not my good deeds,
For through the work on the cross,
My gain’s now my loss.
He defeated death,
And He’s all I have left.
He’s my sure assurance of life
And my Fortress through strife.
They need this Good News,
And there’s no time to lose
For how will they know unless they are told,
Told of a story more precious than gold?
Someone must tell them, and so I will go
Down the street where they’re chanting the call’s melody slow.
You may not live near them, but you still have a part.
Remember me, remember them, in your heart.
It may seem foreign, consider it a dare
For this is, in fact, our call to prayer.

June 11, 2009