I am empty.

I am empty.
As grandly as I may stand, I miss the people that once filled me.
I miss the faces, the lines shoulder to shoulder, the groups huddled to learn or to simply catch up.
The books on my shelves, as holy as they are, have begun to pick up dust with no one around to pick them up.
No longer is the sound of recitation that calmed many hearts heard around the halls, no longer are people being called.
You wouldn't see many on a day to day, but Friday's were when the community would meet, but now no one gather to speak in me.
The children annoyed many, but now I miss the sound of their laughter as they ran through my halls.
I don't hear anyone greeting one another with peace, nor is anyone around to greet me.
Soon the moon will change, but no one will be there to sight it in my yard.
Night times in the most wonderful month of the year was when I saw friends faces light up and dates passed around.
There will be no one to stay up all night in their silent prayer, no community to gather and break their fasts, or join together to have iftar.
I don't know if I will see the balloons, the colorful dresses and hands or the sweets.
I may not be able to see the gifts passed around, or the excitement to see those you didn't see in years.
Maybe it'll be a chance to change the bad habits, when my bins were spilling with wasted trash.
Maybe now that we can't see familiar faces, when we see them we won't slander and bash.
Not many came when they would come, now everyone misses me.
And I, an empty masjid, miss them too.

-Ayah

Barrett Smithweek 3