16. Oh Woman from Islam.

To   G.Y.  and  David   the  bloggers'  Bard. 

To   all  the   Women  in  my  Life.

Oh woman from Arabia,..................... 

you fill my sleep with wondering

the mystery of your uncomplayning

all-hiding,     of your stoic soul   all-shrouded

in an all encompassing black cowling

which like a funereal shroud

as if in an eternal mourning

that never respite nor reprieve showing,

condems you as if to an eternal oblivion lowing.

When in my youth along the asphalted road

of the North African shore on a two-wheeled steed

moved with the speed that envying camels and donkeys

with feigned silence, the aloof and disdeigning twisting

of their worried and parched lips alone their envy showed

shimmering in the rising heat-waves,

lines of these black-shrouded women of Arabia

as if an mirage I saw,

silently for miles untold,    trodding

like   beasts  of   burden  loaded

but I was young and shy  and  

by  my   very   youth's   longings  worried

and in my innocent deaf-like guilt, and   worry

I just   kept going

in dread of the ubiquitous unchanging and unrelenting

all-shrouding Sharia Law,

that even the sand  as witness   holds

Their silent screams of corresponding and mutual longing

now in my twilight years I hear

that to my speeding young soul,

then as if in escape engaged,

in my sleep my delayed new-being now reach

with silent questions as to the reasons why-:

Of all this jealous inhumane shrouding,

all deprivations in its blackness hiding,

of the inhumane limitations that for ages untold

the arabian Eve have kept frozen

as if in a dreaded criogenic morgue

all shrouded in black, hidden, removed, despoiled

of all the freedom that God by whichever name

one may wish to call gave to humankind

as the inalienable birthright of all.

Your silent screams oh desert-dwelling, poor arabian souls

in female forms to God born,

from your black-shrouded forms to me now reach

my sleep disturbing

through understandings and awarenesses that time took to know

and tell me of the chains that for times untold

your human souls have kept and held

in the oblivion that is the fruit

of the eternal limbo of your world which

to me rather seems like a hell on earth.

Is this the price that you must pay

for man’s predatory and uncontrolled

hubris and lust that limits does not heed

to his weak flesh and nature

which wishes to punish and destroy

the object lof his lusts?

that needs to put in chains and shrouds

the one whom God designed and assigned

for man to love and cherish thus in vain?

Where is the so vastly and ubiqously vaunted

of God the mercy and compassion,

that in the the  loving  Fatihah wondrously

these very godly words like in an ocean swim?

By thin, sharp, cruel lips,

the predatory teeth barely hiding,

the words professed are,

with soul uncommitted and hypocritical body gymnastics,

that of empty ritual reek.

An empty ritual that with vanely professing praying lips

the good, unknowing, well-meaning

women-loving, Mohammed gotten must have

from the Pharisees of old,

whom Jesus the Good Rabbi and the very Son of God

had already to Gehenna thrown

and condemned for their showy of piety-shows.

Oh  shrouded   woman of Arabia,

my heart goes,  crying-out to Thee!