I want to
be a poet,
so I can
casually say how
I feel
like putting on my hijab
but putting on my hijab
takes effort
like the pins that need
to be placed
in the right creases
on both sides
just below my temples
sometimes on the crown
of my head
or just beside my ears—
when I am
distracted
because you
came to mind
like a sharp
longing.
I want to be
a poet,
so I can
spontaneously
gush out
my ideas,
my feelings
on Saturdays when
most are idle
and I am idle
because I just finished
meditating on my Subh
seven more times
than usual,
fiddling
the string of beads
mumbling
in between verses
desperately asking
the Almighty to
help me understand
the boundary
between faith and
fate—if there is one.
I want to be a
poet,
so I can steadily—
no longer sporadically
I hope
assert my take
on traditions cloaked in prejudice.
_____________
Arifah Macacua Jamil believes in silver linings and As-sabr.