Which way to the Qiblih?

Standing at dawn
In a room full of mirrors,
Ablutions performed,
I seek the Qiblih.
But all I see
Are images of me.
Distractions abound,
Wrapped in the sound
Of stark numbing silence.
Which way to the Qiblih?

Who switched the way
To the Qiblih?
Who took the prayer rug
From under my feet?
The world stole His gaze
But I know He’ll offer it back.
Will I be distracted, again?

Please tell me
Which way is the Qiblih.
I’ll glue my gaze
And never look away.
Please show me
The correct way to turn,
That holy direction
For which I yearn.

I was bowing to the gods
Of my idle fancies
For all too long.
Just now I learn
The Qiblih is over there
By the lamp,
While all this time I bowed
To the curtains.

For so long,
Eyes covered in veils,
My back was turned
From You.
Need I linger in the darkness
Consumed in regret
Or hasten with rapture
To Your holy presence?