No longer can I wait for you.
You are no more the tabernacle
In my life.

I have swept my Pantheon
Clean, beheaded idols, 
Altars desecrated, defiled,
With tears sacred fires doused.

My qiblah has shifted.
Its cornerstone turned white. 
The crescent hateem is square;
Deep abe-zamzam's dry.

If I pray at all, it will not be to you, 
But for you. If I seek God, 
It is not for me, but for you. 
I wait now only for death, 

for God, but not for you.

[22 May 2016]