Poetry at “Graduation”
July 25, 2010
Both Fr. Dave and I are adjusting to life away from Dar al Islam and our new friends. Did you know that we slept in bunk beds in dorms – he with four other men, I with six other women, and then there was yet another dorm, and a married couple in their own room? It actually worked out quite well, and the sense of community was deep.
At the final banquet we all received our certificates of “graduation,” having completed 57 (yes, that’s right, 57!) hours of class work! To the tune of “You are my sunshine,” we sang to our teachers and the wonderful staff: “You were our teachers, our Islam teachers. You made us study all night and day. When we’re alone now, we think of surahs (verses of the Qu’ran), and we bend our knees and pray.”
Fr. Dave recited a poem he attempted to write in the Sufi style. (The mountains around Dar al Islam are the Sangre de Cristos, the ones which are also in Crestone, and Pedernal is a flat-topped mountain nearby which Georgia O‘Keefe loved and frequently painted.)
Heart of Sand
Sometimes on the mesa between the wall
Of Christ’s Blood Mountains and the tower of Pedernal;
Sometimes walking the vaulted memory halls
Of the House of Islam I stopped. I heard a call:
Swirling down from a dome it fell on the ear of my heart
Like silent thunder or singing rain. What art
Can rain a song to slake a heart of sand?
When I find the Singer, let me take you to her land.
I wrote a long funny poem trying to summarize the remarkable experience we’d all shared together, taking care to mention each person by name as a tribute full of gratitude to each one. I can’t possibly explain all the references in the poem to you readers, but I think the feeling comes through.
We lived high on a mesa in old Abiquiu
And right from the start we had so much to do.
A mosque, a madressa, and three sleeping dorms
We studied our Islam according to norms.
Dar al-Islam and their great Institute
Gave us books, many hand-outs, a whole lot of loot.
Dr. Shafi was a primary lecturer,
Helped our study of Qu’ran be much more “correcter.”
The classes, the lectures, discussions and such,
Rehana watched over with her special touch.
Tariq the saint, Mr. Fix-It, no doubter,
Spent all of his time back and forth to the router.
With Tariq, Rehana, then Mrs. Shafi,
Hmm… Umayyids, Abbasids – Shafi dynasty?!
We heard from Iqbal’s fan, Mustansir Mir,
Personally I found him quite dear.
I thought he presented the Sufis so well,
Though “Women in Islam” for him was pure hell!
Sulayman Nyang with his African smile
Says, “We are all stories” with our own unique style.
I loved how he gave us the powerless point,
His tongue-ear connections sure shook up this joint.
Muslims in Europe, the U.S. and Asia,
From the top of North Africa down to Malaysia.
“Sue” Douglass gave references, web sites galore,
Andalus, Ind’ian Ocean with lots more in store.
Karima showed buildings and great Muslim art,
We used our crayons and drew from the heart.
She taught us haft rang and cool tessellations,
Then brought us the Renaissance Muslim elation:
Astronomy, math, and that surgical gore,
Philosophy, chess, and so very much more.
Rabia and Benyamin led us in dzikr,
I learned 99 Names for Allah that much quicker.
Nadina’s library with books new and ancient,
When we asked questions, she always was patient.
Sophie in the kitchen along with two Anns,
What wonders they served us from six magic hands.
Behind the equipment? Melinda and Pat,
One with her curls and one in her hat.
Who cleaned our toilets when we were not there?
It was Yvonne with meticulous care.
Dark storm clouds gatherin’, Ali’s Call to Prayer,
Are among the good memories of our being there.
For Poetry Night we drove to Santa Fe
And on the way home brilliant lightning display.
The staff cared for details, we had Santa Fe maps,
But afternoon lectures instead of long naps?!
Sometimes our classes were really a rush,
We even learned ‘bout the Prophet’s toothbrush!
According to Muslims there’s no ‘riginal sin.
Who did it? Not Eve, so it must be the Jinn!
I confess I was worried ‘bout life in a dorm,
But sisters, in truth, such deep kinship was born.
Carrie with glitter on both of her eyes
Always so vibrant and full of surprise!
Emily opted to pierce her cute nose,
And when she sang for us, all our hearts rose.
Wendy teaches deaf students with those special signs,
Wears beautiful shirts in bright colored designs.
Leah and Moss have been married so long
With Ethics concerns and that butterfly song.
Then there was Dave on his brand new blue bike,
While each early morning the rest took a hike.
“Cowboys and Aliens” in the White Place,
But Harrison Ford? There was never a trace.
Speaking of movie stars, then there is Leigh.
Who in the world does she want to see?
Kubla Khan, Teddy, an Aussie named Hugh,
One thing’s for certain: no one from Peru!
Beverly, Candy, and Paul, and Renee –
Can you believe we are going away?
We won’t see Bradley and Debby and Jess,
Not Larry or Patrick or Toni unless
For a reunion we all get together
NCSS Denver? –No matter the weather.
Seriously, Folks, let’s put joking aside.
These two busy weeks have been quite a ride.
Good food, solid teaching, and many new friends,
So I am asking: May we come again?
First you were names, then you became faces,
As I go home, on my heart you leave traces.
Tomorrow from here all of us will be gone,
But tonight I must tell you sincerely –
SHUKRAN!!!
(Shukran is the Arabic word for “thank you.”)
Fr. Dave and I had hoped to include photos with each day’s entry, but couldn’t make it work, so we’ll post some later, including ones we shared with other participants.
In both Caravans and on the Desert Foundation web site, we’ve showed you pictures of La Plaza Blanca, the White Place, down the road from Dar al Islam. I was looking forward to walking there at dawn and dusk each day, but unfortunately it was closed to us because of the filming of a new movie called Cowboys and Aliens (strange title, strange subject) with Harrison Ford. But one afternoon the crew allowed us to walk there and photograph the gray ash cliffs, but get nowhere near the set they were building. Due to a wrong turn, some of our people saw the spaceship!
“Ali’s call to prayer” deserves special mention. Ali Ellis from Albuquerque is an American convert to Islam. He has a magnificent voice, and his Call to Prayer is the most moving I’ve heard outside of the Middle East. This call may well be my most favorite prayer in the world. It stops me in my tracks every time and fills me with adoration. I’ll miss hearing it several times a day now that I’m home in Crestone.
Tessa Bielecki