THIS day takes me back the memory lane;
The nostalgia of Prophet Ibrahim in pain.
The days that barrenness was his lapel,
And his prayers all tend to be dark spells.
I remember the day his wish was granted,
But then after, such wish back He wanted.
I see the tears in his heart and silent tears
that bemoaned his mind and his deep fears.
In the end, his eyes and heart dart into dance,
As the God replaced his son with a ram.
This historic event birthed the festive of today,
This historical event is a lecture for us today.
I remember also the pain of Prophet Muhammad,
On such festive day, God took his own lad.
What a tragedy that greeted his morning,
Instead of feasting the Holy man was mourning.
It was his grief that birthed the nine tekbeer,
It was his agony that birthed the seventh takbeer.
It was his sorrow that beckoned Suratul Kawthar.
It was his perseverance that gave him the Kawthar.
This day came with stains rammed in pain,
But in the end, for us, it’s crowned with gain.
Let’s celebrate and enjoy ourselves to the peak,
But let’s not forget praying for the men of peace.
Let’s send adoration and praises to Allah,
Forget not Muhammad, the Prophet of Allah.
Ayeyemi Taofeek Aswagaawy