A Prayer Room For All People Poem by Alla Bozarth

When you begin {any of the five times daily prescribed}
to praise the Holy One ~ Allah ~ which means
The Mysterious ~ The Source ~ The Essence ~
it will lead you into a river current which you will not
be able to stop, until it takes you to its still point,
the place where names and meanings merge ~
as in the ancient El/Elohim, for Whom the mouth forms
its Alleluias beyond all meaning and thought.

The man who walks and has walked the halls of Providence St. Vincent
Medical Centers for over thirty years now, to listen to the hearts
of men and women~ those committed to his care~ this doctor needs
to offer them in prayer to The One Who Is All. With all these precious,
strong and fragile hearts in his holy, healing hands, his surgeon’s nerves
unfurl before the Nameless, the Invisible, like wings flying toward heaven
to be blessed, to be guided, to be true to the Spirit that leads them
through the millions of rivers that flow out and return in to the core.

But where? In a broom closet? A locked medicine room?
A porch outside an Emergency Exit door?
Or a tiny patient interview room “deep in the heart of the giant hospital”?

And where will the compass be on such dark walls
to show him the direction of Mecca?
And how will he spread out his prayer rug to kneel
in such a small space, or touch his forehead to the floor,
and then stand again to pray so softly but yet aloud,
for passing angels to hear and stop to add their blessing energies?

The pastoral care minister came to notice the doctor’s dilemma
in finding a quiet place to pray, and she was able to arrange for
a room near the Roman Catholic hospital Chapel to become
the Muslim Prayer Room.

It is said that Moses advised Mohammed to petition for mercy when
Allah/Elohim decreed that the Surrendered Soul should pray fifty times a day.
“Your followers will not be able to bear it, ” the Prophet told Mohammed.

The Holy One cut the number in half, but Moses insisted that, too, was too much,
and a second and finally third appeal concluded with these times through the day
for a person to pray: Upon arising, When the sun is overhead,
At mid-afternoon, At sunset, and Upon retiring.

For whatever shift the Muslim worshipper might be on duty
in the Roman Catholic hospital, whose doors are open to serve all people,
this room, filled with natural light from high windows, will also be open.
People receiving care and their families will find welcome here.
At night, witnessing stars will burn as prayer candles through the window glass.

Two women artists pray as they paint the wall which indicates
the direction of Mecca~ an exquisite sacred abstraction
in intricate curves of green~ the color of Islam, the color of Peace~
with accents of burgundy and gold~ an elaborate geometric design
that rises from a straight line to a diamond form crowned by an arch.

Her head covered in a white scarf, the brush at home and steady in her hand,
Tasneem Rahman says that this Center is a holy place for her, filled with joys
and one great sorrow. She bore three children here, and her son Mustafa died
here as well, from injuries following an automobile accident.
“I prayed in the rooms where my children were delivered, ” she reflects,
but goes on to say that when her son died she longed for a private sanctuary,
a safe enclosure where she could feel one with God.

Now the artist completes such a place for herself and for others,
hoping that people of other religions who might discover this room
will recognize symbols of their own traditions within the sacred design,
and find peace. As a blessing she says with a looped stroke of her brush,
“We wanted to make it easier for people of all faiths.”
Blessed indeed are those who will come,
and every prayer from among them.


For Dr. Masud Ahmad, faithful in prayer, and
Christine Wallace, who made the vision a reality.

From “Praising Allah at a hospital, ” by Nancy Haught
The Oregonian, September 30,2006


From My Passion for Art by Alla Renée Bozarth, copyright 2011.
All rights reserved.