At times of utter despair

hidden from the world when I sit,

I wonder why I was raised without a father

why was I shown and given people in my life,

loved and supported

became what they became by

whatever— provided by their parent

normally raised— hidden from woe

of broken household and economy to fix it

let alone fear of being unsafe.

Having no one watching over me

no sound I make, was ever heard

I concealed myself so good.

we crave to think of God as a person

it’s still undiscovered

but like everyone I assumed at times

God as a person who loved one of his creations

Prophet Muhammad,

there’s no evidence of someone

ever loving someone this much.

Half of the world

Christians call him father

and the other half knows He loves us

over seventy mothers can.

Prophet was raised unattended by parents

the people of his town, of family

accepted him not.

It was the world who followed

and we have sunnah’ in literature today.

It’s enough evidence to claim, philosophically

that God exists in every part of us

even where we think there’s a hole

a cavity, a hollow path we never walked into

just like the absence of my father.

He stays in wrecked and we find him there.

Prophet found him there, in his cavity

in poverty and having no father to feed

a city not wanting his presence

people replying with stones when he said something

we say better worse to each other today

protected by freedom of speech

we never see bloodshed in conversations.

but it happened to him,

an example was given

that people given with luxury, barely thinks

and Quran evidently presents God, saying;

“only thinkers and observers can find me”.

and how much mind I use when I sit

away from the world, in despair when

my hands are tied, where I have to play a lot of roles

and barely remembering who I am.

I am wretched and— I know He exists here.