Her Name

I know a girl who’s lovely.

She’s filled with a God-like light.

She was born into a war-torn country

and took cover in the night.

Her eyes do sparkle with the purest love

and dance with joy in heart.

She is the substance that kindness is made of.

She’s the place that God did start.

She isn’t super human.

She’s very much flesh and blood.

But, she’s been touched by angels.

She’s intoxicating with love.

She speaks with the wisdom of an ancient soul,

though her laughter remains juvenile.

She conducts her life with graceful control.

She’s the meaning of a smile.

Don’t tell Muslims should go to hell.

Don’t tell me they’re all the same.

I know peace, because I know her well,

and Maryam is her name.

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