Your house

We visited Your House. They tell us not to. "There are too many guests". But how could we not? It was hot. Our lips were dry and throats parched. We could not drink your cool, sweet water. Not until the sun, Your sun, had set. We walked in circles and thought, and asked and begged for so many things from You. A uniformed guard sprayed water from a bottle to those nearby in the hopes that it would bring them some relief. A lady could not walk, so she crawled in submission to You. Servants gather from all over the world and beseech You in various languages. It is amazing. People handed out dates and coffee to passers by. We sat on the floor as our thirsts were quenched and our veins were moistened and the call to prayer resonated around us. The rituals were complete and we, the children of Adam, saw to a basic need, of food and water, that for so many of us, is a luxury. Later, we were called to stand once again. The lines formed and flooded out of Your House spilling on the streets and surrounding areas. We stood beneath the cooler, night sky. Tired. Happy. Eager. Ashamed. In hope of Your Mercy.      

photo source

And Allah is the All-Knowing.