4 MINUTES and 49 SECONDS
was how old I was when the satin of my father’s mouth
was a salamander’s length away from my becoming.
The intentional lyrical love left him
and settled in the seashell of my ear.
In balmed language, the soundscape heard
welcome child. Ergo, my intro to Allah سبحانه و تعالى
In this world, the adhan is the antidote.
It promises listen for me and you will find them.
My ummah.
8 MINUTES and 14 SECONDS
was how old I was when I first smiled.
After genesis, Muslims hear the adhan twice.
The birth. Then, conducted by death, the rebirth.
The adhan comes as a vision. A confession.
It washes over you. It swears to you, this
enlightenment, that your soul has, exists.
To remember: even in emptiness, there is air.
Isra Hassan is a Somali-American poet from Minneapolis, MN. Her work can be found (or is forthcoming) in Poetry Wales, Poet Lore, Logic(s) Magazine, Guernica, The Waterstone Review, Denver Quarterly and elsewhere. NAYSAYER, her debut collection, is now out. Her manuscript, OPAQUE, was a finalist for the 2023 Center for African American Poetry & Poetics Book Prize. Hassan takes the economy of truth seriously. As a lover and black nihilist, her work centers surviving during these cataclysmic times. Find her @israology on all social platforms and on her website israhassan.art