Called to Pray

A fleeting quiet in the city a vast
observed from an unknown place,
dim but for the glow of old gas lamps
faint through opaque linen drapes.

Away in the distant, unoccupied streets,
the hypnotic chorus hums.
Soft and rousing it starts to weave,
until like clockwork, the people come.

A melodic echo from mosque to mosque
as first light illumes the sky,
she hears the hymn synonymous with the East
begin again from nearby.

And with the window ajar she listens,
to the exotic incantation grow louder.
When both sudden and quite unexpected
a powerful stillness overcomes her.

Then there on the plush hotel carpet,
she bows her sweet head and kneels.
Moved by the chords of the Adhan, yet,
uncertain of what she feels.

A tranquil moment goes unnoticed
but for the girl who just came to visit.
Who knew this place comprising glamor and grit
would spirituality elicit?

And as the morning buzz from the passage
arose to welcome the day,
she felt an awakened reverence,
for like them, she was called to pray.