"Stories, Poems and Writings..." What an enchanting cast of tales, and
characters, of people and places - and truths - has been assembled here by the talented
young writer, Yahiya Emerick!
One would be tempted to add to this panorama a further
brushstroke - the fundamental one, really; the one the author sets drifting softly across
the breeze that breathes through each of these exquisite vignettes and musings he has
fashioned: what a shimmering spectrum of lessons of life and lessons in living.
But Br. Emerick's pen, and the world he has conjured, is so deft and so light, that t
he weighty word "lesson" clangs and clatters, quite out of place in his delicate tapestry. The lessons are there. But they too fly on the sweet wind he blows our
way. It's a whispering, enveloping wind. It's a warm and cozy wind.
It's a casual, down-to-earth, witty and wise sort of wind It's capable of engendering
both the most serious, pondered reflection, and capturing in a blinking (and starkly
clear-eyed!) flash the most commonplace of everyday experiences. Author Emerick manages
all this with two additional graces: pervading poetry and humanity.
Now, let's be clear: this is, nominally, a book for children and young people. Muslims,
of course. Of course? No. Correction: a book for children, young people, born anyplace and
to whatever environment. And it is a book for every adult who retains the wondrous thread
of imagination and memory from childhood's glowing eyes. We all know who that is: every
adult, born under any sky, in whatever environment.
The book is in and of Islam; Islam in life, in here-and-now anecdote, in
long-ago/far-away dream, in parable, in hadith, in philosophy: the poems, you will find,
are deep and striking. But also short and concise: the hardest kind to shape, the most
powerful kind to linger. The people are in and of Islam. They are Muslims, strong and
straight in conduct, or they are Muslims on the way to becoming, or even re-becoming,
Muslims.
There's Rashid, on his way to the Masjid, who notices a n old woman dragging a heavy
package. Assalamu 'Alaykum sister; can I help you? Rashid is being led further and
further away from the Mosque, it's getting late, late, he'll miss Salah... Read it and
see.
Amirah is a college student. "She was proud of being a Muslim and tried her best
to live according to Islamic teachings..." Amirah, one day, notices a large crowd
gathered across the campus yard. "Two men moving about in a highly energized
state... 'I'm saved by the blood! You need the blood of Jesus!' bellowed one of the
men." On and on, foaming evangelizing.
Amirah listened and instinctively blurted out, "Only God decides our fate."
"All eyes turned to the fragile young woman with the scarf on her head. 'Life is a
continuous struggle and we are its active participants'..."
The crowd dispersed. "Later that evening, the people attended a meeting. But the
church was empty - while the mosque was full. Allahu Akbar!"
Go from ancient China to Black Eagle, native American; a sketch of a briefcase walking
a man to work (watch that ending twist coming! ), a wait for a morning train or a lyrical
night, Makkah or the Himalayas. Poems on Islam that whisper or chant. And every
tale's moral woven in to the colors of this magic carpet ride, so that when you get to it
(and sometimes, the suspense is so excellently devised that even old tale-masters won't
have figured out the twist till the author is ready), it hits you, bam! And your eyes
crinkle up and your mouth smiles. Because this here (take any page, it applies equally)
has been one cleverly-wrought piece of writing... There are even some of Br.
Emerick's own experiences in and of Islam. And a silly car thief who misses the
"loot" kept in the ash tray of the non-smoking Muslim driver! So the tales and
reflections and poems of this master storyteller roll and blend and shine to form a smooth
and bright pattern that also tinkles like pure crystal bells.