Your breath becomes ragged, and your eyes wander towards the towering mountains in front of you. Your saliva dries up and your tongue is tied. How long has it been since you last addressed Him? Your last decision to worship your Creator in your own way has remained suspended. How many lean nights have you gone through in which you failed to commune with Him despite your attempts? Have you forgotten how a servant should be alone with his Lord? Or do you know no other way than the old ways that you have rejected? You were once Hayy ibn Yaqzan on a deserted island, so can you be Moses tonight? You whisper in a low voice that no one else can hear, despite the silence surrounding you, but you know for certain that He is counting your movements and stillness, and nothing of your innermost feelings escapes Him.