the Healer

My Husband, the Healer

O Allah, You have honored me so,

With a man whose hands ease the pain of woe.

A servant of mercy, a vessel of grace,

Healing the wounded, each life he’ll embrace.

Before the sun dares to kiss the sky,

He wakes with whispers, his prayers rise high.

His soul bows low in the hush of night,

Seeking Your mercy, absorbing Your light.

Wudu cools the weight of the day,

As he stands in Tahajjud to kneel and pray.

His heart recites words so divine,

"Shifa is Yours, O Lord Most High."

Yet even as his feet are sore,

Duty calls him through the door.

With a silent plea, he takes his leave,

A heart of patience, yet sleeves of grief.

For medicine cures, but You command,

Illness and healing in Your Hand.

No scalpel nor pill can force the tide,

If it is not written in what You decide.

The Weight He Bears

Some see only the white of his coat,

Not the weight of the prayers he wrote.

The nights of worry, the endless strain,

The moments he hides his silent pain.

He walks the halls where sorrow lingers,

Holding hope in trembling fingers.

A child cries, a mother pleads,

A father’s eyes reflect his needs.

Yet my husband speaks with words so true,

"Ya Allah, I turn to You.

These hands of mine are weak and small,

But You, O Lord, control it all."

The beeping monitors, the hurried pace,

Yet still, he finds his quiet space.

A whispered Bismillah before he starts,

A SubhanAllah as faith fills his heart.

Some he saves, some slip away,

Yet he knows this world will not stay.

For life and death are but a test,

A path that leads to eternal rest.

The Sacrifices We Share

There are nights he does not come home,

The hospital halls his second dome.

There are meals left cold, prayers alone,

Yet my heart beats where his has flown.

I know his love is strong and true,

Even when work takes him from view.

For every stitch, for every tear,

Is an act of faith, a duty clear.

Oh, how my heart swells with pride,

To walk with him, to stand beside.

A wife to a man of noble call,

Who gives his all, yet seeks so small.

For wealth and fame he does not chase,

Only Allah’s mercy, only His grace.

Each patient’s smile, each whispered plea,

Is a sadaqah, a prayer set free.

So I pray for him in sujood so deep,

"Ya Rabb, grant him peace in sleep.

Ease his burdens, lighten his load,

Let Jannah be his final abode."

The True Healer

For though he learns and though he tries,

He knows the truth behind the guise.

It is not the doctor who saves the soul,

But Allah, Al-Shafi, the One in control.

He has seen miracles beyond his mind,

A heart restart, a child revived.

He has seen loss, when all was done,

A soul departing with the setting sun.

Yet never once does he despair,

For in each breath is Allah’s care.

And though he labors, though he strives,

He leaves all fate in Allah’s Hands to decide.

For the doctor heals, but not alone,

He follows commands from the Throne.

He stitches wounds and soothes the pain,

But Allah gives life and takes again.

So he works with hope, yet bows in fear,

Knowing Qadar is always near.

For medicine may treat, but it will not sway,

What Allah has written, none can delay.

A Dua for My Beloved

O Allah, keep him firm and true,

Guide his steps in all he’ll do.

Let his knowledge be a light,

A means to bring the world some right.

Grant him patience, grant him peace,

Let his worries find release.

Strengthen his hands, make steady his heart,

Let him never from Your path depart.

For he is more than what he seems,

A man of knowledge, a man of dreams.

A healer, a servant, a soul so kind,

A heart in which Your love resides.

And when his time on earth is through,

Ya Allah, bring him back to You.

Let his deeds be counted high,

And grant him Jannah, forever nigh.

Final Words

For the doctor heals, but only You restore,

Every heartbeat, every breath, forevermore.

So I stand by him, with love and prayer,

A wife who knows his work is fair.

O Allah, bless my husband so,

Let his heart in Your mercy glow.

And when the trials of life are done,

Grant us Jannah, reunited as one.

Conclusion

This poem reflects the faith, love, and sacrifices of both a Muslim doctor and his supportive wife while acknowledging that healing is ultimately in Allah’s Hands.