The Pious Ones

Yet again, she stares into the empty space
Not here, not there, but somewhere in between.

“I envy them the most,” she whispers,
Eyes locked on the stillness before her.

A fragile smile appears, then fades.
A single tear slips down her right cheek.

“Them… they look so at peace.
Have you ever seen anyone so ‘light’?
They walk like travelers,
Yet joy clings to them like sunlight.
They never complain.
They hold their faith like an anchor.
They speak with a certainty that shakes the air,
‘Just believe in Him!’ they say, their voices unwavering.
They love His words.
They love speaking to Him, about Him.
Even when their worries tower like mountains
Their hearts do not tremble.”

She draws a deep breath,
Tears now streaming freely.
Her gaze locks with mine, searching..
As though waiting for an answer to a question unspoken.
She leans closer, her voice trembling,
A confession wrapped in a whisper,
“I envy them the most… them… the pious ones.”

وَيَرۡزُقۡهُ مِنۡ حَيۡثُ لَا يَحۡتَسِبُۚ وَمَن يَتَوَكَّلۡ عَلَى ٱللَّهِ فَهُوَ حَسۡبُهُۥٓۚ إِنَّ ٱللَّهَ بَٰلِغُ أَمۡرِهِۦۚ قَدۡ جَعَلَ ٱللَّهُ لِكُلِّ شَيۡءٖ قَدۡرٗا
(Q: 65:3)