Repost: I Wrote This Poem in May, 2007

One cool thing about blogging is that it's possible to go back and see where I was, what I was doing, what I was thinking at a given time. The We Heart Art carnival reminded me that I actually have a lot of poetry in my blog archives. So I decided to repost a series of my old poems, beginning with this one.

THE WHIPPING GIRL

In the beginning the Veiled Beauty smiled
at everyone, she laughed and giggled,
never suspecting that the reciprocal mirth
was fake. She skipped and danced along
the Straight Path, singing "There is only One God,
and Muhammad is His Messenger." she expected
to change the world with her loving kindness.
She helped the needy, hugged the lonely,
and did favors for her elders, hoping
to make them her Aunts and Uncles.

At first they gave the Veiled Beauty sweet flowers,
little rainbow-colored birds, and exotic fruits
and sang songs whenever they saw her.
As time went by she noticed that the flowers
she was getting were increasingly disintegrated
and smelled more and more like dead rats,
the little birds came with broken wings
and could not sing, and the exotic fruits were
rotten at the core. The songs that the people sang
whenever they saw her, were morbid, hateful rants.
What happened? Did the gifts really change,
or was she finally seeing their true characteristics?

Puzzeled and hurt, the Veiled Beauty approached
her Sheikh for answers. "They are jealous of you," he said.
"But why?" she exclaimed in shock, "I don't have anything
to be jealous of!" She shook her head in disbelief, "You have
seen my hut, it is very small and bare and the clothes that I
wear are not glamorous or expensive. Why are they jealous?"
"They are jealous of your spirit, they want to be like you,
but they know they can never be so humble and sincere," he said.
When she left the Sheikh her veil was wet with tears
and her eyes were pools of sorrow. Her shoulders slumped
and she was shaking, her footsteps on the Straight
Path Homeward were all uneven, she even tripped and fell.

As time went by the Veiled Beauty kept on trying
to do what was Right and to shine God's Light on the
faces of the destitute, the lonely and the grieving.
In the middle of one long and lonely night she heard
her window shatter. Someone had thrown a rock into her hut!
"Who would want to hurt me? Why? What have I done
to anyone?" she thought. Her back bent as she swept
up the broken pieces and covered the window with her
faded blanket. The next morning, a knock on her door,
there the village people stood, some arguing, some chanting
an ancient, well-known chorus: "Crucify her! Crucify her!"

The Veiled Beauty felt no fear, her spirit soared,
a radiant glow lit up her face as she gazed past them
at the blood-red streaks in the sky, then she saw that they had
planted a cross on the little hill near her house. The rays
of the morning sun cast a sinister glow on its wooden frame.
Mutely she began her walk towards her destiny. Their
chatter nearly deafened her, the whips and chains tore
her garments. They knocked her down repeatedly,
each time she got up and walked a few more steps,
shouting, "Their is only One God, and Muhammad
is His messenger!" But the people could not hear her,
above the sound of their cursing.
Bruises bloomed upon her slender body,
but the physical pain was no match for the pain
that bit into her golden heart and oppressed her enlightened soul.

When they had dressed the Veiled Beauty in a bikini
and nails had been driven through her hands and feet,
they erected the cross and became silent to observe her fate.
Finally they heard her voice shouting loudly,
"There is only one God, and Muhammad is His messenger!"
They watched in horror as her hair turned silky and white.
The blood that dripped off her body turned into rubies
as the drops hit the ground. The tears that rolled down her
cheeks became diamonds. Her bruises morphed
into a gown of sweet red and purple flowers.
When she took her last breath some of them changed
their minds and began to cry, they finally believed her words,
but it was too late.