Voice of British Muslim Women

Yusra Dahri, Tilford

I imagine Noah’s son

On his treacherous mountain walk

Climbing, craving, clinging to rock

Until his hands are ripped up and raw.

The old part of me, desperate to be strong

Can almost hear his thoughts

Shaking his head at his father

Not trusting him at all:

(Why get on a wooden boat

When wood is crushed by rock?

The mountain is safer, taller, obdurate.

And I will be a mountain.

So why believe in God

When I can believe in myself

More?)

I went the opposite direction

I thought I could be my own anchor

But I was stubborn and sinking.

When my body first hit the water, it held me

For a second like I was a small, weightless baby.

That’s when I started thinking

How good it could’ve been

If I just trusted some things could be easy.

If I believed not in rock, not in water

But that someone loved me enough to save me.

Then Someone darted through the darkness

Threw off the anchor lodged in my chest

Rubbed the heat back into my heart

And I started breathing again.

But not everyone is so lucky.

In the modern day, old stories are told again.

Noah’s son finds himself in a big city

Skyscraper, on the highest floor.

He still has the same thoughts:

(And I will be a skyscraper

I will make it to the top.

There, no one can touch me

Not even God).

This time, his hands are smooth as metal

Reaching for his chequebook, uneasy

Like there’s something left to settle.

And though he could buy enough pills

To make the whole city sleep

Noah’s son has bad dreams

On his luxury cotton bedsheets.

His teeth taste like salt

His ears drum with water

And realises he can’t remember the last time

He spoke to his father.

And Noah’s son ignores memories of this man.

An old man smelling of oak and warm sand.

His father took him to the ocean to teach him

How to swim. How to trust the water

And pray to God to let it cradle him.

But Noah’s son saw the city skyline.

Saw the tallest building

And using a suit and tie

Decided to climb.

Trusting in no one

And trusted by none.

One day, he got there

Right to the top

And realised there was nothing left to do

Except fall off.

I went the opposite direction.

Now I see my soul as a kite

Catching higher on the wind.

And every time I have more faith

I loosen the string.

I know some day I’ll have to let go

But nothing is ever lost.

God will catch my kite

Check the ribbon and mend the canvas.

Maybe I’ll be asked

How did life on Earth go?

Sometimes I was climbing

Sometimes I was drowning

Sometimes I was flying

But mostly, I was learning to trust

When I could not know.