Poems,  the homemade remedy

She’ll Paint Her Path to Jannah

There are more than a million different combinations of deeds
You can do
To earn a house in Jannah
I want to do it through my passions
I want the paint I carry with me
And the paint I find along the way
To rise from their cans
To twirl
And intertwine
And weave
In and out and within each other
Until a colour so pure and bright,
Unseen before by man
Is made
And I’ll begin to create
I’m going to begin with colouring my mother’s life
In ways she cannot imagine
I ask Allah(swt) I become the source of her risq
Until the day I pass away
And I will take the brush out of my father’s hand
Tell him to relax, to take a seat
I pray to God for a day I’m able to tell him
I got us
I am where your sacrifice and reward meet
I will tell him and my mother
I understand an immigrant parents sacrifice is one harsh trial to defeat
And though I may not always show it
I have always work towards this
And please understand your wellbeing has always been on my mind
With a kiss I’ll say, ‘I’ll see you later’

And with my salah
And my fasts
And my Quran in hand
I’m going to hop on a plane
With gallons of my paint clipped to its wings
I’ll tell the pilot to take the long way
To fly to anywhere in the world that will teach me
About this world and its beings
I’ll head to schools across the globe
And trash the palettes of manufactured colours
I’ll tell the kids to hold on to their own version of colours
Because it took me too long to regain mine
And I’ll work
And I’ll work
And I’ll work
Until my paint turns into rivers
That overflows into each and every avenue and screen
I’ll work to strengthen its colours and potency
Until any eyes that fall upon it
Cannot help but to reflect and to dream
To reflect and to dream
About their own colours
And the effect they have on the world
For every hand is a brush
And its work its art
Contributing to society
And that makes my paint
My way to get to Jannah
I will paint with care
And within the lines He allowed
And I will work in content
Without knowing my end
For anything you do for the sake of Allah is worship
And any way you help a soul there is reward
So I will work to colour this entire planet
And maybe the universe too

And though I may not reach
Every inch
I desire
I hope long after I pass
When my paint has become worn and chipped,
With bits
Long decomposed into the earth
A young soul
Will come across
Its remains
In awe
And pick up their brush
To complete this work
And I hope
Along their journey
They will whisper a prayer
That I had
My house
In Jannah

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