Who am I, O Creater of Souls......

Rabia...?
Sita......?
Zuleikha...?
Maryam...?
Meera....?
Sassi....?

Am I one? Am I all?

Sometimes I am Rabia....

I live alone in the desert, one with God
I shun all the world has to offer, all comforts, all temptations,
I conquer my nafs like a mujahid, above all creations,
Sometimes I am so proud to be me..

But then...

Sometimes I am Sita...

Protecting my chastity, ready to walk in fire
So confident I am of my innocence
No matter where or how, I am pure
Purest, down to my essence

But then...

Sometimes I am Zuliekha...

Worshipping my desires my needs,
Ready to risk the fire of hell, clutching on to Yousuf
Not letting go, though I know I am wrong,
But I close my eyes to truth, the devil’s grip is so strong

But then....

Sometimes I am Maryam....

At peace with my motherly soul
There is no other goal,
Just God, his acceptence and my off spring
I desire no other thing

But then......

Sometimes I am Meera...

So deeply so innocently so purely in love
With a god... an illusion...an image
Singing songs of nirvana, waiting for acceptance
Which may come or may not, but she sings anyway

But then....

Sometimes I am Sassi...

With no hope, lost in the desert
Walking barefoot, thirsty and alone
Knowing she can never have what she seeks
She knows, her beloved she can never meet

Why O why Creater of souls, my Lord....
Why have you made me so many yet one...
Why am I everybody, yet none..

Please, wipe out all the colours from my soul,
Just give me white and black peace, that is all.