I am stashed
with lip balm, a comb,
a small mirror, rarely pulled out
I am carried everywhere
for I am weightless
I am made to collect dust so you do not have to
when you kneel
on both hard and yielding surfaces.
My back protects you
from impurities
I create for you a space
A space that is folded, that is carried
so the prayer stays with you
wherever you may be
as long as you are alone.
I am not beautiful
Others like me have been meticulously woven
hung up, rarely used
but I am made to last your journey
to withstand wear and tear
so that I am always here
when you are distracted, anxious
or joyously calm
that is when your embrace is the sweetest.
All things are made to worship Him,
but I was made for worshipping Him.
A Muslimah Writes 
Amazing.
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I thought of incorporating the close calls this poor mat has had with my friend’s dog, but that wouldn’t have been so poetic!
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Beautiful poem, sister. Do you do any spoken word?
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Thank you. No, I rarely write poetry as it is.
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Beautiful poem, you’re incredibly talented.
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