“I Wonder If God is Shaken”
You don’t have to know anything about the current crisis in Iran. You don’t have to know anything about Iranian history, recent or ancient. You don’t have to have friends or family there. You don’t have to agree or disagree with one side or the other.
None of that matters.
All that matters is that you hear this young person reading this poem and know that they are speaking for everyone in history, known and unknown, anywhere and everywhere, who ever cried out to God in the longest, darkest night of doubt and got no answer.
Poem for the Rooftops of Iran
Friday the 19th of June 2009
Tomorrow, Saturday
Tomorrow is a day of destiny
Tonight, the cries of Allahu Akbar ["God is great"]
are heard louder and louder than the nights before
Where is this place?
Where is this place where every door is closed?
Where is this place where people are simply calling God?
Where is this place where the sound
of Allahu Akbar gets louder and louder?
I wait every night to see if the sounds
will get louder and whether the number increases
It shakes me
I wonder if God is shaken
Where is this place where
so many innocent people are entrapped?
Where is this place where no one comes to our aid?
Where is this place where only with our silence
we are sending our voices to the world?
Where is this place where the young shed blood?
and then people go and pray?
Standing on that same blood and pray…
Where is this place where the citizens
are called vagrants?
Where is this place? You want me to tell you?
This place is Iran.
The homeland of you and me.
This place is Iran.
