- in the name of Allah -
for me yesterdays hold no pain, they're nothing but lessons and memories, building blocks for castles where at last the soul can breathe. for me todays are gone in a haze, instants and instances to implement the wisdoms learned or beg forgiveness from Him of insolence or ignorance displayed.
truly, for me, tomorrows hold all the promise, tomorrows are why life remains today, tomorrows are how the past finds its meaning framed. in the midst of this exam, while humanity all lurches from fail to pass to fail again, from sorrow to elation, from boredom to fascination, from whim to will, from compassion to indignation; my clarion call resounds from chambers I haven't yet fathomed, halls of glory and splendor, company than that even brighter and better, joys expounding exhilaration and ecstasy inhaled without measure, such moments picture perfect to paint for hearts fulfilled and wholesome.
~~~
If must the dreamer dream, and in this twilight zone in which we live, I see no more worthy endeavor gleam, then set upon your sights, goals of highest rank and Beauty's light, that shadows and lusts alike might fall away to dust, so when rises our dawn from this shallow dusk, we might breathe as those who Believe, looking forward to the meeting of their Rabb.
5.23.2017
5.21.2017
- in the name of Allah -
Rhapsody inhaled. “It was not,” she
said, her voice ringing with a Namer’s
truth. “You cannot purge anything that
has happened to you, as if it were an
impurity of steel to be smelted away in a
forge fire. All that has gone before has
made you what you are, like notes in a
symphony. Whole or lame, you are who
you are. Ryle hira, as the Lirin say. Life
is what it is. Forgive yourself.”
-Symphony of Ages, Book 6
Rhapsody inhaled. “It was not,” she
said, her voice ringing with a Namer’s
truth. “You cannot purge anything that
has happened to you, as if it were an
impurity of steel to be smelted away in a
forge fire. All that has gone before has
made you what you are, like notes in a
symphony. Whole or lame, you are who
you are. Ryle hira, as the Lirin say. Life
is what it is. Forgive yourself.”
-Symphony of Ages, Book 6
5.18.2017
- in the name of Allah -
i
sometimes a figment, sometimes a phantom, ever-weary of the road, so oft it's travelled. for normal people what might seem like depressions, for me become a cause for the lost heart submersed at the bottom of oceans. fading so deep I can't hear its beating, body alive as echoes of pulse, but like I'm dispossessed in my own limbs, watching this ghost move and follow through the motions. the heart has always been my center, around which revolves all my being, an axis serving as lens and interpreter, so when it feigns death in nonexistence all I can feel is the shadow of nothing without even a shudder. this organ, if whole then the rest is sound and noble towards its End and goal, but yet when absent or estranged, this organ leads the rest of me towards dissolution and decay; so how can I keep it going, keep its ticking apace even when life or time try to take their toll, even when against me my self becomes an enemy avowed, open to behold?
my recourse as ever is Allah, though in such moments I can "want" scarcely anything, so life forges forward, as though frozen and merely in hibernation, a living death not quite as dramatic when the ice's age by qadr alone is sublimated. duas would be beloved, returned by angels and my Rabb many fold.
i
sometimes a figment, sometimes a phantom, ever-weary of the road, so oft it's travelled. for normal people what might seem like depressions, for me become a cause for the lost heart submersed at the bottom of oceans. fading so deep I can't hear its beating, body alive as echoes of pulse, but like I'm dispossessed in my own limbs, watching this ghost move and follow through the motions. the heart has always been my center, around which revolves all my being, an axis serving as lens and interpreter, so when it feigns death in nonexistence all I can feel is the shadow of nothing without even a shudder. this organ, if whole then the rest is sound and noble towards its End and goal, but yet when absent or estranged, this organ leads the rest of me towards dissolution and decay; so how can I keep it going, keep its ticking apace even when life or time try to take their toll, even when against me my self becomes an enemy avowed, open to behold?
my recourse as ever is Allah, though in such moments I can "want" scarcely anything, so life forges forward, as though frozen and merely in hibernation, a living death not quite as dramatic when the ice's age by qadr alone is sublimated. duas would be beloved, returned by angels and my Rabb many fold.
5.13.2017
- in the name of Allah -
from ~5/11-5/13
in between the lines, right below the surface, oscillate those echoes, their absence where the hurt is. Need - a wound long healed yet bleeding regardless, let's skip past surgery, would settle for a bandage, staunch the rivulets of Red, might be better if I found a tourniquet, maybe lose a limb, but kept as whole whatever's left: doesn't seem like much, as the heart's abated, no calling from within, just vast gaping seams of nothingness.
in these moments, my being evaporates to mist, while I search for rain, to quell a void I'd rather keep than give. here's to a spring that never ends, except for when autumn comes around the bend, here's to thunderclouds and downpours, that turn their distant rumbles into roars...a day will come to pass, where the winds blow just right across my face, so my soul can cherish at last its moment, and into that wind escapes.
from ~5/11-5/13
in between the lines, right below the surface, oscillate those echoes, their absence where the hurt is. Need - a wound long healed yet bleeding regardless, let's skip past surgery, would settle for a bandage, staunch the rivulets of Red, might be better if I found a tourniquet, maybe lose a limb, but kept as whole whatever's left: doesn't seem like much, as the heart's abated, no calling from within, just vast gaping seams of nothingness.
in these moments, my being evaporates to mist, while I search for rain, to quell a void I'd rather keep than give. here's to a spring that never ends, except for when autumn comes around the bend, here's to thunderclouds and downpours, that turn their distant rumbles into roars...a day will come to pass, where the winds blow just right across my face, so my soul can cherish at last its moment, and into that wind escapes.
- in the name of Allah -
Regardless, ~5/4
Even if I should not find, on my earthen road, a soul to mirror in earnest, a hand for this time to hold, then that is simply what was His decree, that I seek but Him, with what He gave to me of means. In life, I've touched a soul at least once, maybe twice, seen the road paved from heart to heart, that spurned the lesser for what was found inside; 'twas a light that burned its brightest in hope, with fuel as all that which makes one whole. Were these the steps I had to take, to walk down inside my grave, with peace my Rabb prepared my place, then what have I left of complaint?
For all the softly-sorrow that in my words does drift, there's so much beyond death's door, for which find I reason in to live. Worldly riches will never suffice, this wealth that erodes by passage of wind and water and time. Only that which He describes, of whim and wish brought to life, as gifts from the Everlasting, gifts to always abide - these are all that can for me suffice.
Regardless, ~5/4
Even if I should not find, on my earthen road, a soul to mirror in earnest, a hand for this time to hold, then that is simply what was His decree, that I seek but Him, with what He gave to me of means. In life, I've touched a soul at least once, maybe twice, seen the road paved from heart to heart, that spurned the lesser for what was found inside; 'twas a light that burned its brightest in hope, with fuel as all that which makes one whole. Were these the steps I had to take, to walk down inside my grave, with peace my Rabb prepared my place, then what have I left of complaint?
For all the softly-sorrow that in my words does drift, there's so much beyond death's door, for which find I reason in to live. Worldly riches will never suffice, this wealth that erodes by passage of wind and water and time. Only that which He describes, of whim and wish brought to life, as gifts from the Everlasting, gifts to always abide - these are all that can for me suffice.
5.10.2017
- in the name of Allah -
I created not the sun, nor the brightness of its light,
I created not the moon, nor the respite of its shade,
I created not their orbits, as one sets the other to rise,
Of the earth, its mountains and their quakes,
Of the stars, their positions fixed, 'til rent from place,
Of the seas, from which come tides that daily change.
All of these, utterly far above my being,
My Creator's gifts, into which I can scarcely see,
Surely He is Allah, the First, the Final, the King,
Who holds my soul, and directs forth all that is.
I created not the sun, nor the brightness of its light,
I created not the moon, nor the respite of its shade,
I created not their orbits, as one sets the other to rise,
Of the earth, its mountains and their quakes,
Of the stars, their positions fixed, 'til rent from place,
Of the seas, from which come tides that daily change.
All of these, utterly far above my being,
My Creator's gifts, into which I can scarcely see,
Surely He is Allah, the First, the Final, the King,
Who holds my soul, and directs forth all that is.
5.05.2017
- in the name of Allah -
Sometimes I'm just a snow-capped peak, letting the wind drift over my slopes and eaves, there's a resonance out there I can't meet, transposing itself from summary of mistakes into a dream. All my moments are reverberations, reaching out across the skies, endless visitations, to places life keeps me blind to, but eyes of the heart dare to stay open. A shade of madness is never far from the place I live, a cubic one-way prism, trying to filter out all the sorrows that seep from people's souls in modes they don't conceive in. As if it wasn't enough, to hear from empty minds the struggles of inanity that keeps them occupied, my own beating chambers once in awhile try bursting on for size, maybe simply because they're bored with just pumping blood in vessels and veins, try testing the inner limits on the metaphysical plane. This one place once described my state as an INTJ, realities reflecting me almost to the letter, surely out there in the wide world there's another being who feels in vibrations similar. Perhaps when I'm ready, when these momentary shutters pull back and reveal the clouds and rain in all the finery of weather, I can look around and keep tap-tap-tapping on a keyboard to see if I can touch 1 heart more, a totally legit trifecta topping off all the best days long awaited in Firdausian treasure.
Sometimes I'm just a snow-capped peak, letting the wind drift over my slopes and eaves, there's a resonance out there I can't meet, transposing itself from summary of mistakes into a dream. All my moments are reverberations, reaching out across the skies, endless visitations, to places life keeps me blind to, but eyes of the heart dare to stay open. A shade of madness is never far from the place I live, a cubic one-way prism, trying to filter out all the sorrows that seep from people's souls in modes they don't conceive in. As if it wasn't enough, to hear from empty minds the struggles of inanity that keeps them occupied, my own beating chambers once in awhile try bursting on for size, maybe simply because they're bored with just pumping blood in vessels and veins, try testing the inner limits on the metaphysical plane. This one place once described my state as an INTJ, realities reflecting me almost to the letter, surely out there in the wide world there's another being who feels in vibrations similar. Perhaps when I'm ready, when these momentary shutters pull back and reveal the clouds and rain in all the finery of weather, I can look around and keep tap-tap-tapping on a keyboard to see if I can touch 1 heart more, a totally legit trifecta topping off all the best days long awaited in Firdausian treasure.
5.04.2017
- in the name of Allah -
"10 years worth"
A decade, it isn't very long at all, not from the lens of the universe and time itself. Human beings don't get to live that long, our 60-80 years will feel like just a few hours on Judgment Day, when death is ended and immortality is the only outcome.
In a sense, those 10 years were like the blink of an eye, and for my own sake, I hope every decade I have left is like that too - so long as I remember Allah in all the ones that remain. I truly wish there were more echoes for me to listen to, more aspects of knowing of your state of being I could internalize, but for now there don't seem to be.
But there might be something of an echo remaining, interestingly found on the last minute or so of Fly On. As I was listening the first time through it, the finality and sort of conclusive tone of departure came a little close to another Breaking. Alhamdulillah though, it was quite near the end where the brightest part of it shone for me. In just a few prepositions, a "with" here and "next to" there, the entire essence of it all shifts, encompassing not just the letting go and moving on, but the most vital aspect of akhirah being complete.
SubhanAllah, whatever Allah puts in place, there's nothing in life that can take it away; no doubt one of the strongest reasons one finds to keep hope with Him for tomorrow.
"10 years worth"
A decade, it isn't very long at all, not from the lens of the universe and time itself. Human beings don't get to live that long, our 60-80 years will feel like just a few hours on Judgment Day, when death is ended and immortality is the only outcome.
In a sense, those 10 years were like the blink of an eye, and for my own sake, I hope every decade I have left is like that too - so long as I remember Allah in all the ones that remain. I truly wish there were more echoes for me to listen to, more aspects of knowing of your state of being I could internalize, but for now there don't seem to be.
But there might be something of an echo remaining, interestingly found on the last minute or so of Fly On. As I was listening the first time through it, the finality and sort of conclusive tone of departure came a little close to another Breaking. Alhamdulillah though, it was quite near the end where the brightest part of it shone for me. In just a few prepositions, a "with" here and "next to" there, the entire essence of it all shifts, encompassing not just the letting go and moving on, but the most vital aspect of akhirah being complete.
SubhanAllah, whatever Allah puts in place, there's nothing in life that can take it away; no doubt one of the strongest reasons one finds to keep hope with Him for tomorrow.
5.01.2017
- in the name of Allah -
“There is no reason for love. It just is.
And when it’s there, it endures, even
when it shouldn’t. Even when you try to
make it go away. It’s hard to make it die.
I’ve learned it’s also unnecessary—and
unwise. It only lessens you for it. So you
accept it. You lock it away. You let it
stay. You don’t deliberately kill love.
You just don’t act on it.”
- Rhapsody, "Destiny - Child of the Sky"
“There is no reason for love. It just is.
And when it’s there, it endures, even
when it shouldn’t. Even when you try to
make it go away. It’s hard to make it die.
I’ve learned it’s also unnecessary—and
unwise. It only lessens you for it. So you
accept it. You lock it away. You let it
stay. You don’t deliberately kill love.
You just don’t act on it.”
- Rhapsody, "Destiny - Child of the Sky"