Allah Castles

are what my son,

with a 5-year-old’s

sweetness, calls every

house of worship,

is how I can tell

he is a traveler too.

O, how many times

I’ve performed salah

in empty churches,

whispered ameen

at mass, made wudu

before holding

the Torah or the

Guru Granth Sahib,

nodded reverently

at the statue of Ganesh

in my best friend’s

home. God is God

is God, is a wisdom

my son’s already

divined, that echoes

through the spaciousness

of his wonder. When

I lie beside him

tonight, recite the

Ayat al-Kursi,

then blow its protective

blessings over his

beaming face, his

growing body,

I too think of Allah,

of His many castles,

His singular Throne.