What Would Jesus and Muhammad (As) Do

may our lives wealth

children and parents

be sacrificed for you

oh beloved.

how many times does

love utter these words

yet empty and devoid

of reality

of action less life

the wayfarer the homeless

the traveler and the beloved

are one

the knock of Layla

is the knock of God

do you ask for her to

remove her sandals

is she like all

perhaps now you’ve proven

who is who

is there an entry fee

or do you ignore the knock

it’s cold outside

you go back to sleep

her bags are too weighty

for those laminate floors

what would Jesus

or Mohammed do

Fatima gives the last bread

to the knock of Layla

lulling her children to sleep

without food

hungry and thirsty

ya Hussain

how absorbed in ourself

we worry about candles


the ideal scenario

the perfect birth

the perfect home

the perfect time

while no use was Layla

all these poems -why

as now she arrives

when the time is nigh

to hear your sigh

to wipe tears dry

she awaits in the cold

while you sleep on

organic cotton and wool

with a holy one

whose words are all

the scripture and code

If Jesus had children

i would run to them

seeking their grace

for his love

no different than his


how do you claim

love for Muhammad

when you see his child

not as your own

as long as duality reigns

in your minds garden

between you

and all I am and my baggage

never shall we unite

nor shall we be granted

a holy union

the midwife and doula

a playlist and oils

more virtuous

than the three wise men

in the guise of Fatima

she comes

by the power of Hamsa

by the grace of the five

her hand is holy

as so her eyes

she delivers and dresses

women and babes

giving life to the dead

you know what I mean

was myrrh

gold and frankincense

more worthy

than Fatima

whose milk alone

millions would die

to have their offspring

be nursed by

making her mother

by virtue of suckle

what use was Jesus

church or chapel

teary psalms

on hard wooden benches

love devoid of

sacrifice in action

we wonder

if your home

your feelings

your comfort and privacy

more worthy than the beggar

whom the wise say is God

what use were all these poems when Layla stands outside in the cold

she shivers

while you bake bread

what use were all these claims

when now it was time to

show what you’ll stand for

die for be brave for

as long as your comfort

your I

means more than the beloved


all this wayfaring

all this love and pennings

were none but a hoax

a deception of the selfish self


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