Dance, My Daughter, Dance

You are so young, my daughter

I watch you dance amongst the prairie-grass and bumble-bees

As sun rays covers you in its sweet embrace

Your smile invites the birds to play

Your feet beckon the soil beneath them to follow while you lead

The wind races through your curly locks

Make your curls sway and rock to the rhythm of your dance, don’t stop

Your brown skin glows beautifully

Just like Bilal, the Abyssinian slave

The world around you will make you feel

Inferior, less, ugly

They will make you stop your dancing

Make you feel as if Allah has not honored you in this religion.

For you, my baby-girl, is a gem, a Muslim

Where racism is from Jahiliya, the past

Where your gender is not a father’s disgrace

Where your body will not be an open-book for the world to look upon

My daughter dance and never stop

Smile and twirl

Look towards the heavens and know that your lord

Has honored you



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