unsent draft messages

They say Eid has come and gone,
Twice over!
The streets are scented with rose petals and fatty aromas of feasts from every home
Pristine pressed garments adorn the happy crowds,
Flowing like flags at full mast in jubilation,
Like sails gently billowing with each excited breath
Gleeful faces embrace with glistening gazes,
Rising above this gentle hum of joyful chatter, a chorus of “Eid Mubarak” echoes in every ear
“Eid is here! Eid is here!”
A small child runs through the town, beaming,
Screaming,
As his little prayer hat bounces around his crown.
A nostalgic, soothing sound
Yet I stand here confused,
Bemused and surprised
How can it be Eid today, when my moon has yet to rise?
I’ve been searching now for days,
It’s like she vanished,
Like she fell out of the sky
It’s empty up there,
As am I down here
Where is my moon?
Have you seen her?
Eluding my eyes, yet consuming my mind,
I’m looking up, but the clouds refuse to part
My heart races,
Eyes darting across the skies in vain
Mystified, I’m misty-eyed,
All I feel is the rain
It sure doesn’t feel like Eid…
In this sea of celebration,
I’m adrift, seeking her gaze
My moon…
I only find her absence when I look up
The air feels stagnant without her scent,
The feasts lack flavor and festivities premature
Why is everyone celebrating?
Eid isn’t here
I think the Imam made a mistake
It can’t be Eid without her…
It can’t be Eid without her!
She’s not in the sky
It can’t be Eid without her
No, I’m not crazy, this is!
So stop all the hugs and kisses
Take down the lights and turn off the stoves
Go home
I’ll look again tomorrow…
Perhaps a glimpse tomorrow?

Inshallah…