Cognizance

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

began 11/29, not long before the Sunflower

some way, some how, I’ve fallen short of You,

even if I stacked all my deeds

like chips upon a table,

I’d lose the bet of worthy being,

for if I am

alone

I can never be enough or able.

In every thing I attempt,

in all that I intend,

I see my -comings ever shorter-,

the end of a stick

so frail,

it’d snap in two

at the lightest wind.

can’t help but think or feel our distance grows

the slave from his Master,

do I realize further the chasm

with things You bring me to know?

Oh Rabb, how can I nearness seek,

when I am the puddle’s fish

with out its school

unaware of sustenance,

floundering about,

in my own cage,

barely beast,

that finds for itself but doom as stage?

If You shelter me not,

if You do not forgive,

if You do not encompass me always,

I will be as dust

though human You have me made.

I beg, being one of those most needful begging,

for without You I’ve always been

simply nothing.

Your care, is my sanctuary,

Your pardon, my relief,

Your acceptance,

changes into Hope

all my pangs of grief.

If You erase not my sins

they would swallow my soul,

as drops of ink

lost amidst a darkness, deeper
than the blackest hole.

But for Your favor shown,
I could have no aims,
and would but stand alone,
but with my submission,
my surrender,
of my most precious pieces,
at last
breath is easier to breathe.   

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

my Gift: why do you not speak? what puzzles must I unlock, what language must I learn, to know what swims inside your soul, what hides behind the surface underneath? how I long to shower you in love, soak you with affection, so we might see how high you grow, and find your most potential. waiters wait, either on tables or for Fate, that they might find their sought, worthy of all the chase.

~

my Muse: from a distance, my beacon shaded from the peeking light of trees, surrounded by the forest and its green, tropical or temperate, or some shade in between, I wonder what surprises, caught in the corner of her eyes, while still she held her iris, a captured frame, a piercing gaze, a smile or a grimace it's hard to say, but with her as centerpiece, I find the portrait perfect and complete. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

i've already given, it's already been taken, an oath from me to Him, to keep on trying, regardless how i see a thing unfolding. just recently, one piece of me sought to protect another piece, and i don't think i could have felt more contented, there was khair forming in the road ahead, and it was beautiful. 

today, there's no cause for alarm, but i am reminded the other piece of me is far away, and on occasion there will be times where the closeness i seek will be a thing she cannot give, a thing i cannot have.

and so? so nothing. i submit, as often as He would have of me, to not rebel against a condition of my surrounding, to not be swept away in the absence of what the heart wants, to not forsake the road He gave me because of my own inability and incompletion.

Tomorrow is as much sabr as it is action, as much contentment with decree as it is forging something better, in ways that I still do not fully grasp, but inshaAllah will always be trying to find.

 

 

Unspoke

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

of today

though not a word we spoke, nor was I sure it was me you sought, still conversations flowed in my mind, like the breeze through a sunflower in its pot. I think we said our hello’s, I think our hair (yes me too! In my dreams at least) was blowing in the wind, we both forward gazed, towards a future we were in, but longed to sooner meet, I knew it as the sum of our todays. 

I wondered if that was your foot which from the picture’s corner poked, how sweet were that it so, just another part of you for me to one day tickle and touch, merry made mine to watch your laughter’s bubbly rush. If that your foot was not, alas, to see yours I will wait, perhaps you may call me mad, oft have others done the same, though in chasing you for life, not a thing would I dare change. 

who else, but you, my Muse, could spark from my dimmest moments, such welcome thoughts and truth, alive and whole again, lasting hope that wakes me from zombie into human?

I cannot forget, He Who let me have this gift, knowing you, my star that i will always chase, through these nights and days, past the seconds and weeks, alongside every other joy i may come to meet, there will be its twin in your complexion, twined in my soul, awaiting its own blossom and ascension, iA.

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

So this is how it is, being immune to emotion or pain, like a zombie given life, limbs strong as paper mache. Can't quite tell the trigger or cause, perhaps a natural progression, can wish or want for nothing, as if all of my being is simply paused. death might be simpler or sweeter, but can't ask for it either, so forward is the march, of one sightless, mindless, heartless, one without an end or a start. energy seeping out of my veins and pores, breathing an effort, existing a chore, just trying to finish this sentence, can't really be sure, where is the rest of me, the best of me, to bring meaning to what it's all for? 

 

12 / 12

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

so it was, on this day years ago, my Gift was born, one which I'd unwrap at last, to find inside it hiding my Tomorrow. i've spoken of the contradictions, of the factors juxtaposed, too often human sight is so limited, caught within a moment and its throes. i mind none of the trials that have passed, would not begrudge a single one that lies ahead, for they all remind me of what i chase, those things that last, where finding them is but patience and its wait. i don't think she sees what i do, perhaps most do not, the layers underneath the obvious, wherein hiding in not-quite-plain-sight is truth. i can not rush a single stage, this journey of a lifetime in everything it takes, simply to relish the hopes ahead, preparing for them by planting any good He lets me embrace. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

of corollaries and addendums, seems like most everything I write, just one long sentence, trying to finish its beginning and ending, space the periods and commas, hope what comes out, isn't quite senseless. messages and memories, packaged for hand delivery, either express or slightly slower inevitability. my Future is the fuse, a spark of kindling surrounding all that I do, pointing me forward, along this path that He ensures, is the only one for me to choose.  of trampolines and dreams, there, there inside the crux of these, is where we find the fuel for flight, to reach beyond the moments passing, with hearts as Beacon one and bright.

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Once, there was a man who awoke feeling like he'd been crowned a king. He could not tell how long he had slept, or what had transpired outside of his bed, but for some reason he couldn't quite articulate, none of that mattered to him. For he recalled his sleep, the most restful he had ever had, incomparably comfortable and leaving him eager to be now awake.

There was much in front of his eyes he could not wrap his mind around, much beyond his scope, but he could feel someone waiting for him, not far from where he stood. He could not see her yet, had not met her eyes, but he knew, she was who he'd always chased. In the time before sleep, he had sought  her hand but found it to be a thing postponed. With that simple bend of fate, the man's destiny altered, as after that point, he would shape his existence as a fletcher crafts an arrow, for the sole purpose of finding himself where he now stood. 

It was not just that he would find her, or even that he would hold her, but what truly pulled him was the prospect of what he could show her. His time before sleep, it held no sway over him, but the time of this reckoning, it was everything for him, it was why he lived and why he sought. At last, their gaze crossed paths as she turned his way, and upon each other their sight fell. There she was, a queen in her own right, gloriously radiant, smiling a smile worthy of her lips, eyes wide and sparkling, reflecting all the company near to us.

If the man could have lived a thousand of his former lives, just so that he might revisit this moment anew, he would have. Would that his words could capture her visage, describe the resonance inside his chest, the matchless emotion of Triumph that coursed through their veins...but words could not. 

He knew, and so that was why he had chased this Reality for so long, to complete the task that all his words could only ever begin; their completion, at the doorstep of Eternity.

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

there come those days where I'd choose the storm and instead I am chosen by the stillness, perhaps the more I've given up to Him, the less there is for me to carry, less for me to feel. being away from my beloved used to be so much worse, now it's simply a passing shudder, gone nearly in the blink of an eye. in theory, my most painful moments should be these (#wcs), but He's taken the pain from me. I don't know what occupies in its place, what this feeling is, if it in fact is an emotion at all. 

a thought occurred to me the other day, that of turning to Allah becoming just like breathing to me: easy and simple and essential and second-nature and vital to survival. it did not quite get formed like a dua, but I suppose that is what it became. 

I am sorry, oh love of mine, that I cannot feel, that I cannot give, that through this life yet we must live. if choice were mine, I'd bring dawn to your sky, turn water into wine, let words formulate wings, so we'd always be in flight. for now, for this second, while we're captured by life and its essence, those choices are on hold but never forgotten, for my memory will serve as template, for those palaces and Gardens we've yet to walk in. this dream is His to carry, mine to chase, forward by day one step, perhaps closer to it we've came. - iA 

Sunflower

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Sunflower seeds, sprouting in the breeze, not quite summer, but here’s what it could be: timeless sunshine, without shadows or shades, without blemish or rain, unless we so chose, to walk in such precipitate. Wish I could feel your heart beat, not just in my own veins or arteries, but also from inside every written word, that emanated from your being, echoes of breathing, without lungs but life still there I’m seeing. I know these days, they clash altogether as one and the same, feeling indifferent or indeterminate, volatility settled perhaps by patience needed for the traveler who’s transient, but that doesn’t mean we can’t tap into the highest ether of being, of purposes and calls made as heavenly doors opening our way. Smile and be as bright as the Moon can oft be, journeys aren’t amazing without struggle, for the pathway ultimately ends at ease. Even if life welcomes you like a desert, open arms of desiccation and thirst wide so your essence it tries to take and erase in sandstorms of screams muffled, I hope our Rabb lets me be the endless lake, freshwater always for your tongue to taste, blissfully wet from the bottom of my soul, quenching the thirst and healing parched lips, within an ocean of hydrogen and oxygen, locked in perpetual kiss.

Perhaps I might read those writings now, or shall I keep going down the road of crazy-how? Thus to show with words, twists and turns to vivify the absurd, bringing back to life things we thought interred? Rise again, Oh hiding heart, tremble the earth, find again your quake, as reasons reaching beyond mere earth, soaring into skies of Gardens vast and limitless, a puzzle made whole with all its pieces.

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

so this is what steady days feel like, neither high nor low, neither drowned or ecstatic, but kept by Him, in this shade in between. perhaps the secret to all of life's problems is here to be found, in accepting everything that my Rabb wills for me, whether to hear from my beloved or not, whether to be in company or alone, whether I walk under skies clear or darkening, none of that matters...for I recall Him regardless.

I always wish I could hear their echoes, to know how they fare, but it is not something He deems fit for me to know at all times, or even as often as I might prefer. After all, ultimately He knows better than I, so if He's chosen those unknowable things for me, for me the task is to accept His will. It could be said that I could seek to know, if knowledge was that important to me, that I could scale the walls of distance and circumstance any time I so wished. 

Truth is, everything about my beloved is a gift from Allah, knowing them, having met them, hearing from them, sharing a bond with them, none of these are of my own doing. For me to try and force it, does no honor to how my Rabb does things. It is His pace I would follow, His permission, perhaps (is my hope) that His contentment with me in allowing these kinds of things their own specific time and space. 

That which I seek, has no way to be sought except with Him, no way except through Him. Goals and dreams to encompass this life and the next, to bridge life and death and afterlife, this is the unseen spark behind the actualized idealist, one trying to unify the sight of everything that can and cannot be seen, so there is no loss between now and then, only gain, tremendous and immeasurably amazing gain, gain to dwarf all conceptions I've ever known. 

It's so funny, He showed me love, let me feel it a bit, then took it away. Only to give it back to me, whole, years later. Whether it is for my provision in this life on the one hand, or it is my dream of beacons rejoined in the next life, in both spheres is the heart surrounded, even time and distance feel almost weightless. The cosmic beauty of this I could never hope to express, not with a mortal tongue, not with these mortal fingers, for this is something reflecting on the immortal, with reliance on the Ever-Living. 

~

chasing Tomorrow, hands outstretched towards deeds intended, but still unmet, one Day we'll know what it was we'd sown, how grew those seeds, how true we were, with what we had of knowledge and means. if all I could ever be is the compass and its needle, pointing back to Him, then my purpose in your heart might be fulfilled and completed, filled beyond brim with blessings, uncountable and immeasurable, the product of love with salvation

 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

strange times, holidays. people shop and shop, find it so easy to talk endlessly about the (material) things they want or need, how a sale is going on or this or that, and while I can (alhamdulillah) stay mostly engaged while listening and giving my opinion...most of me continually wonders at the gulf between the world and I. is it just me, or do people forget that the material will fade? even as I can enjoy my recent evolution of being one who wants to do more for others, I can't muster any real desire to want "stuff" for me. I value nice things, quality things that serve function and have some reasonable aesthetic, being an idealist I'd never overlook these aspects. But...I find that I can't keep on buying and buying for my own self. I don't "need" anything material, alhamdulillah for my Rabb's endless blessings. Then I see people who still manage to find needs in the middle of having plenty, this ends up being so hard to digest. 

Even though this paints a picture of someone feeling on the outside looking in, that's not what it is. As my evolutions show, somehow I find that I can coexist in various situations where the main topic of conversation is unending materialness (not materialism, this isn't really a complaint or critique of people wanting or loving material things too much). It's simply difficult for me to relate (and keep on relating) to people when they can look at physical objects and find in them something that might fulfill a part of their life that they find lacking. 

I compare this to myself, he who is constantly looking for the immaterial, and while my beloved would technically be deemed as part of the physical, it is always what they represent and mean to me that makes the touch or hope of a touch truly worthwhile. Like how most people look for physical objects to fill their shelves or closets, I look for memoirs and memories and means of securing that Future of mine that I long for. What good is any of the physical plane if it does not link us to something more? Of what fathomable good can it be if an object doesn't remind us of what we are inside, or what we hope to become? 

Forgive me, oh people of this life, I fear that one day, you and I will have to part. That day, when Death comes to meet me, I hope inshaAllah I have good answers for him, and that perhaps my seeking of what lay beyond that barrier is fulfilled, the best of treasures from my Creator. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Sea cliffs, the ocean, amazing.

Something about a cliff always strikes me as inviting...like it's saying, come jump off of me already. Lol. 

InshaAllah one day I visit that too. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

To be honest, I don't really get what's beautiful about oxen/bison/cattle/etc. Even the big hairy kind with horns, they look kinda cool I guess, but ultimately they're literally just cattle :l

If I had to choose between that and the Shore or the Autumn Road, I would for sure take one of the latter. Perhaps that the Autumn Road leads to my Shore?  I like the sound of that, iA.

In other semi-related musings, I wanted to discourse a bit on love, to sort of tie it in with Allah in a way that makes it less a weight and more of the upward breeze that it can be.

 It is the strongest, most powerful emotion that exists. I think in its purest form, it approaches the pinnacle of all ideals, because within it become encompassed notions of selflessness, generosity, compassion, justice, balance, and the like. It is a motivation and fuel that can outlast any star. Probably also true is that if it is not refined, it can become the most potent of poisons.

Someone once told me, how crazy it was that we didn't realize how much of a blessing love was until it was gone. While this is true, there are a few other things I have found true as well. 

First, it can never truly die, because if one has ever held it, or touched it, then the only possible result is it becomes part of the self. Even if the self were to wither away, love would remain in some form, like a fossil in amber. I know this from experience. Love simply endures, always. 

Second, and most importantly, it should always be remembered that we were never the ones to bring love about, it was not a human doing, but instead something our Rabb gave to His slaves. Part of love's purpose is to make us want to turn back to Him, and not really because we fear to lose it, but! - so that we show Him gratitude and appreciation for what we've been given. If any human being had known love, but did not turn back to Allah, did not show shukr for it, then without a doubt, absolutely, that love would have become a source of loss and torment. So long as life remains in the breast, then one has still the chance to return to Allah: this is the crux of every true hope.

bi ithniAllah, I will never cease to love. I have found it to be the only fuel that has persisted throughout my life. Just with one condition: the only way it can be kept from destroying me is if I remember Allah with it, remember Him from it, remember Him for it. I would seek its preservation, its khair, and eventually, its most perfect manifestation. There has never been any other road for the idealist, dreamer, and lover.

 

Counterpoint

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

I don't want you for a day, 

don't want you for a night, 

but I want you for all Time. 

I know it often seems, like I'm barely real, 

like every thing I am, is so hard to feel, 

while life is this razor, 

sharpened metal and cold, 

carving its impressions, its thoughts,

right down onto the soul,

poisoning your well

so you never find what you sought,

what would have you be whole:

yet here I am, the butter knife,

always seem to bend, 

trying not to tear, trying not to slice,

just there to spread the salty sweet,

across the warmly-risen hearts,

so their hopes will never cease.

can't say if I'm made from silver, or gold,

or some element yet unknown,

likely found somewhere in the stars,

that place where dreams are grown;

thus it is, I always yearn to be

what fuses Love with Reality,

not in some variation of the present,

but inside a Future's core

where you and I are destined.

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

so many echoes, without their location, just a mammal in the ocean, momentarily drifting towards oblivion. soon to be glacier, float on the surface, frozen in earnest, until let go of the pressure, trying to make masjids from churches. perhaps every thread that I read, in between the lines wasn't at all the truth, just agonies composed by the mind, where only I see how I do. insanity, my shadow that taunts and creeps, but can never be reached, like a ghost the road behind me it haunts, waiting for chances and sieves, to slit sanity's throat, a villain without form but malice it breathes. forward I'm pushed, pulled, propelled, like a dam being built, keeping more of the flow behind itself, regardless the cost of laying mortar or bricks, so much weight without mass, carried on shoulders that He won't let give. in some breaths I found life, while in others death, the yin of my yang breaks over and over, on the wheel of time where its fate is kept. here's to living without feeling, for so little long as it lasts, a tempest stilled in the mercy of an organ kept beating. 

Popsicle-Stick Lightsabers

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

this is how, you remind me of what I really am, where once upon a time, I lived like a blind man, couldn't see the front from its back, didn't know what it was that I had, 'til we parted ways, so my seas were cut in half. whatever their color, whether in Red or in White, both sides utterly beloved, as Jedi is the struggle, to salvage balance from life. traces and truths, of shades ruby red or sapphire blue, of my Sun and my Moon, two orbits comprising my dream, where He's brought me back to you.
~
when those sabers kissed, each meeting in its moment perfect, I saw my stars align, showing in one amazing glimpse, those whom I'd so long missed. who could orchestrate such a setting, and give such undreamed gifts, if not our Rabb, Who plans for us even more than this? it's so far beyond anything I could imagine, to know you again, you, who now gleam again in my sky as if you had always been there, waiting. what I chase, the road, it's the same as it's ever been, to see my beacons safe, basking in the warmth of the highest Heaven, their smiles and joy completing in me my own reflection.

~

inshaAllah

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

with a lover's eyes, sometimes find that love is blinding, even with my opened mind, can't contain these oceans inside me, gravity and waves, like my Sun and my Moon, so there's gravity between souls, drawing me close, not just planetary, but universally known. my God, so much love there I have to give, so much I need to let out, every second a beloved isn't near, another second where I'm drowning, an expansion of the chest nearly halted by absence, the crimson within trying its hardest to escape my tissue and skin.

may be going supernova, even though the heart knows this life, it isn't yet over, still it grows and grows, wanting to envelop whatever it finds, a white blood cell hunting for another's pain or hurt, making it mine, so those beloved find only ease and serenity with time. distance, oh distance, wishing I'd conquer you first, before I lay sprawled across this shore, surrounded by water but dying of thirst. it seems this agony is one I carry alone, until my Rabb sees fit to lessen its grip, and so the next breath finally becomes one that I own, instead of recollecting those far away and longing for them I would know, maybe sleep will beckon with its own dreams, to suppress what I'm missing, giving in small doses respite and ease.

I've read and been told, "Indeed, Allah is with those who are patient", so I take my complaints and my ailments, file them away on this shelf, never seeking medical aid for the bleeding but always pleading for His help, to lift from human shoulders the weight of things unseen but seemingly eternally felt, such it is, the bumps of the road I chose, with all its thousand pricks or more, perhaps at its end will I find my Rose. 

inshaAllah

John Glenn

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

What a weekend to remember. Just another added to list of things done for the first time ever, none of them remarkable in their own right, but to me they carry immense significance for the development they mark. Perhaps for such crazy, otherworldly goals as I have, only the most astronomical of tests and coincidences are appropriate.

It was not something I sought out, but a suggestion Allah put in another. And so I pursued the manifestation of that into reality. My Rabb allowed it to be, and furthered the progression of me into someone more closely resembling who I should be, who I have to become. Perhaps this fits the ideal definition of a husband, an ideal very suited for me, even though with the quirks that I have, no doubt such a progression carries its own unique pain and difficulty; I fear neither. 

Such an interesting part of my road, this one. Along the way, one of the people I met was a classmate from my days at an Islamic private school..over two decades ago, yet still he recognized me and said salaam. What are the chances?? Incredible. 

Among the culminating tests of this weekend, my  oft-recurring choice of preferring the akhirah over the present, of that which is khair and lasts over that which is temporal and less. As always, it was only Allah's mercy and what He gives me of His remembrance that allowed it be so. Alhamdulillah for that, being reminded and for every blessing of His that I hope continues without end, especially those of my beacons.

How fitting, that to cap the past few days would be a pic like this. Though many times life seems like its color is fading, as how it is with seasons changing, this is no loss but a cycle of growth, of things reabsorbed, that all my beloved and I, may find the End that is worthy most, inshaAllah.

Mediterranean

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

At the calmest shore I've ever met, with waves that hugged their sand, there I found much of me left. A place to which I can return, when my times nears its close, finding a piece of this earth, for me to call home. Not the final End I seek, merely the most fitting soil and state, that a nomad could perceive. And so, like the drop of rain forming in its cloud, more of Tomorrow shapes itself, as easily as that drop finds its ground. 

Morocco

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 Alhamdulillah, back from the trip and married.

I wondered how to begin this post, but then, for me, remembering my Rabb is the familiar and ever-relevant backdrop to describe this part of my journey in seeking my particular Akhirah.

I am one who loves to understand, to be understood, trying to use words as my clay to shape with artistry part of what is felt, and invariably, I feel a great deal.

Onward, to she who is my wife, whom Allah would establish my connection to. And all the beautifully particular nuances of this latest test. 

I go to a land I've never been, to a people speaking a language I'd never known (darija), to seek the hand of a woman I'd never met before. On the surface, this sounds like the perfect recipe for disaster. But as with pretty much all things concerning me, the surface is just the beginning and there's always more to the tale. 

My trust was, and is, with Allah. It has to be, because there is no one else who can be for me what and who He is. So I endeavored to accept whom He would allow close to me, as my own attempts at finding my provision of this life proved limited and human. Acceptance was not a state I could manage consistently, but instead it turned out to be a sometimes-painful remedy to cure my ignorance of what is not for me to know (which is: what/who is better for me, and all that goes with it). 

Allah chose her for me to find, and the superficial paradoxes don't end with the different land/culture/etc. That is just where they began. She is logical where I am emotional, processes emotions/events extremely fast and doesn't linger on thoughts while I take time to understand them and ponder deeply. She is a carefree spirit at peace with life, and I am one always, underneath, seeking to be free of its influence and considering constantly what consequences may be. 

Again, this seems to look even more grim. How could I resolve all of these superficialities with who I am? Perhaps the answer is in what He allowed me to see in her. Her selflessness and concern for others, a soul free of hubris, earnest nature, willingness to prefer and do for people before herself, these were some of the qualities that I found utterly precious. A person like this does not exist easily or often, and while the test would be considerable in getting to know her, this gift (her name in Arabic literally means, "Gift of Allah".....) is never something to be turned away, always and only can/should it be accepted. 

And so I did.

Seasons & Reddening

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

As autumn forms from summer's fade, I hope you now know, your light is not one of change. Inside every breath I take, is my plea to Him, that He let me remain, a spark of yours that never dims, whether near or far, through both thick and thin, so always Lit your heart will stay. Nostalgia is but the falling of leaves, of things now past from the tree of our being, scattering across the ground, to fertilize hope for Tomorrow as it grows from baby seeds, ever sown by longing with trust, in our Rabb Who's been our everything since before we began, until long after we became creatures that dreamt of so much. Reasons for optimism and gratitude, He's placed everywhere in life, if we have but eyes to catch their subtle hues, as stark backgrounds or choices might disguise from sight their plainest truth. Creation's constant is its change, with our Creator is what lasts, so kept with Him our aims, to rise above the seasons and their alternation, as ones seeking serenity and khair.

~

Red, the color I always bled, now it's the color of my dreams, seeping out all the way from deep, giving definition to hope, to remind me of what I seek. This gradual progression, of facets and perspectives, ever more reddening with age, like the finest of cherry wines, something treasured but not yet mine to taste, so forward soars my vision, like every other part of me, once dug out of the ground, unasked where it came from, but with her kiss of life, so the heart beat again. And with that organ's echo, into all my other chambers, the blood began to flow, pieces lost became pieces recovered, pieces complete, a goal remembered. Oh my Rabb, permit me to find upon my rebirth, the End I have sought, where I chose Your Sky over this earth, Oh my Rabb, keep me always Red, in ways resplendent and noble, that with khair our efforts are imbued, so Your reward we find, in magnificence far more than our due. I know not what I shall become, but Redder still until perhaps by Redness overcome, what a mural would that be!, to find us so shaded, by coverlets of Eternity.

Homeward

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

(corollary to "Home")

If December holds that part of you, now floating mist in morning cold, then this Summer is when we've begun to find, for everything we face, the antidote. It's already condensed on my slopes, though my molten core wavers between being frozen or volcano. Another turning point ahead, like Hajj recently was, wondering if I'll retain my essence, or if life will try to drain the Red from my veins, a vampire without fangs, striking at the different one, trying to turn me sane. Shardless indeed, once that angel beckons, approaching the edge of life, our soul to be taken, drawn close to dreams longed for, as they finally awaken.

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Alhamdulillah, especially for what may seem trivial things. Past few days, continuing into this morning, had been extremely meh, for a variety of now-irrelevant reasons. 

Then a text comes, a few words are exchanged and minutes after, the weight falls away like it never existed. The timing, such precise calibration, the things I've left to Allah, all to be treasured and grateful for.

So much to write, a few begun, others hanging as ideas in the ether. InshaAllah when it's best for them to finish, they'll find their way here. 

Cookies

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

A Cookie Monster and her scones and clotted creams, apparently delicious decadence, if only I take one and place it between the other two, now then I'll have something incredible without precedent: an amalgamation of taste and the heart's truth, just waiting for my own om-nom-nom to find its moment too. Here I am, getting carried away by rivers of milk and honey, a dreamscape intertwining my mortal life with a look towards Infinity. 

Mmm...such beauty in being so unbound, so free, among the first of His favors found, gifted for a patience worth every second's savor, apart a thousand miles, so what are a few years, when compared with Forever?

 

Evolution

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Of the Left: an era of my past, nearly shrouded by darkness, barely a lamp was lit, but still held in hand, an umbrella of Red in remembrance, retaining underneath, whatever wasn't washed away by trial, or by rain dripping with lessons. such it was, faceless, nameless, a shadow who thought himself shunned by light and nearly vanquished.

Of the Right: emerging at present, a nomad's natural state, slowly rowing the boat of his fate, neither strength nor will of his own he made, only the gift of his Rabb, Who kept warm on the nomad's head, those traces of himself, dissolved in remnants of Red. such it became, seeking, driven, a painter of Tomorrow where the Portrait is whole, in perfection remade. 

أمانة

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

SubhanaAllah. I wish it were possible for me to write always of happiness and things to brighten one's skies, consistently uplifting and positively reminding. Maybe my only reason for that would be to ensure that there was never any instance where my words brought about her pain or harm or made things at all more difficult. Often have I thought about how she may have felt at seeing some sadness or low point in what I wrote. The agony of that consideration is among the heaviest things I have ever known. To conceive of harming my mirror, whom I would seek most strongly to shield, is worse than the worst self-inflicted pain, for pain to the self is easily bearable, but when it reaches that part of my being...what then? When the one intending to protect becomes a mechanism to inflict instead? 

For this, I can ask only to be forgiven.

I know my Rabb set this trial for us both, and for my part, the trial of knowing her is an unrivalled gift from Him, something immensely beautiful in how perfectly suited to me it is, how excellent of a test for my nature. I choose it, have chosen it, would always accept it, despite everything. Imagine the result if He helps me pass? I succeed not only in temporal terms, but for life everlasting itself. I could not ask for a means to His mercy more custom-tailored to me, more endearing both for what it is and where I'd seek it manifest than that.

But what of her trial in knowing me? Is it worth it for her? A price that could only be paid in sabr and tawakkul, of being content with how this life shapes out to be - while giving every effort that it deserves, this is no small thing. Though I could never affirm my own worth - only Allah is fit for doing so - it is true that this is partly why my goal resides in Firdaus, wherein culminate the ideal, the dream, love.

I can fathom nothing more worthwhile.

---

even as the path ahead becomes ever more clear, defined, no day and night pass without without remembering that my star still shines apart from me. it is how it should be, i have no lament, but what's missing from within will always call back to its own. 

oh Allah, to You i entrust, my most precious piece, the key to my puzzle, the color of my blood, wherein resides all of me. 

oh Allah, take its best of care, keeping safe from Your displeasure, inside the vastness of Your mercy, along with its own surrender. 

oh Allah, You made it what it is, and from what it's now without, i beg You hold it always close, so Us again one day we've found.

 

Ameen

Revival

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

postdated, 10-11-2018

Alas, the taste of peace! 

Oh restful ones, oh gleeful memories, take from this Summer's cue, all these your fruits, to build upon the goal I seek, made with dreams I laid with you. 

All those yesterdays have risen, like vapor into clouds, just fuel for us to choose, the best of choices, where Him have we made proud. 

Oh mirror mine, I don't love because of the past, but I love for what is yet to come, for a Future chosen, where our ideal might rise, like the brilliance of a morning Sun. Never were you ghost, but He twined our fates so close, composing canvas like no other, where combine we harmony and hope.

From today, and now, just planting seeds for Then, to reap from His gifts, everything together, beyond our imagining. 

:)

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

In my evolving, in reflecting on life, I've come to know that the time of now is vastly different from then. If I allow my eyes to see past the obvious parting, past the emotions that go with it, then there's much more of happiness, of anticipation. Among the dangers of connecting the present with the past too deeply is that I lose focus of what differentiates them, accidentally merging/overlaying two experiences that should not be merged. 

The past, it has no embers left, having long been absorbed into my seeking for Tomorrow. The present, the now, that is what brings forth its own spark, its own reasons for looking forward and striving for something far beyond my self. I realize part of the trial is in the similarity to what's gone before and the feeling that it evokes. Going forward will need consistent vigilance and self-reminder, becoming more than what I was then, especially if I ever would wish from my Rabb further gifts like this summer down the road, inshaAllah.

Revisited

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Didn't think I'd ever feel this again, the pain of parting. I've known and paid the price of divergence once, and this promises to surpass it. Interesting how the trials of our life shape out to be, and in truth, I would change nothing. Allah will keep me living, carry me through this as He carried me then. Despite whatever I want in the matter, but that's what it is being His creation. 

It is fortunate through all of this, we get the chance to deal with such a beautiful adversity and prove our mettle to our Rabb. To pass this test, just being grateful for the chance of knowing one another, for being able to find some good through amazing trials, and through it, retaining a positive hope with Him for Tomorrow. In these is success. I cannot say at this second if I will find it, for I haven't felt this lifeless in perhaps ever. But He has always been my anchor, especially when most I needed it and least I wanted it. InshaAllah He will be so for you too, of this I have no doubt. 

Inna lilAllahi, wa inna ilaihi raaji'un.  

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Hollow tip, 

not quite a gun or its grip, just the edge of a point, can't tell where the front or back is, maybe these moments, like villains captured and homeless, waiting for bail, waiting to sing like birds, even though they're soulless. shards of time, mere seconds, lodged in veins, without escape or protection, traveling to the Emptied Chamber, filled with Absence, the stepchild in masquerade as emotion. somewhere here is tragedy averted, hope a flame rekindling, as my Future approaches, arms thought opened, but alas for these eyes, by the present obscured and absconded. such, dear friends, the nature and trial of trust, to know only what I can, and leave off thought of 'what I must'. so sight I rescind, though 'twas never mine to begin, began and belonging with Him, conviction now ally, though time seems enemy within. patience, my patience, be not hollowed or conscripted, leave off fighting to the ones demented or desisting, with you, perhaps, I may yet come to know again that Purpose.

Bloom

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

(from some time in Madinah)

The duas you sent, like so many petals, coming together to form the flower of your fate. It'll bloom just once, but when it does, with splendor in spades, as your love from destiny at last takes shape. From stem to leaf, and every part around, and all parts between, a gardener I am, tending this orchid, adding to it my own hope, so it may further gleam. When the blindfolds fall, and the Day arrives, I'll show you just how beautiful its grown, this flower of mine.


-

 

Alhamdulillah, The Portrait is now finished. 

Updates to it over time iA, but I think it sets the stage well.

 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Letting 

so many blessings, so many gifts, then come times like this, where sight only goes, to the one thing amiss. so I recall my soul to the present, being content with what He gives, for I know to hear from her may not be a thing forever, though I'll always wish it is. it's been raining again the past few days, echoing my self, in all possible ways. my Rabb, permit me my contentment, in letting things as they should be, not to twist from this life, what I think of need; allow my patience to extend, beyond time or borders or distance; allow me to keep memory and purpose refined, always near, so for the time that's left, it brings only hope to bear. here's to now, building towards Forever, a bridge for me and for my mirror.

Risen Upward

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Watching 'Blacklist' these days, find some occasional gems in it, like this song. 

May Allah help me rise up, again, and again, and again, as often as overcoming this life might require of me...so I might waken to a Day with one of its crowning glories as your smile, ameen. 

"Rise Up"

You're broken down and tired
Of living life on a merry-go-round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out
Move mountains
We gonna walk it out
And move mountains
And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up
High like the waves
I'll rise up
In spite of the ache
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again
For you
For you
For you
For you
When the silence isn't quiet
And it feels like it's getting hard to breathe
And I know you feel like dying
But I promise we'll take the world to its feet
Move mountains
Bring it to its feet
Move mountains
And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again
For you
For you
For you
For you
All we need all we need is hope
And for that we have each other
And for that we have each other
And we will rise
We will rise
We'll rise
We'll rise
I'll rise up
Rise like the day
I'll rise up
In spite of the ache
I will rise a thousand times again
And we'll rise up
High like the waves
We'll rise up
In spite of the ache
We'll rise up
And we'll do it a thousand times again
For you
For you
For you
For you

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Sometimes need to remind my self that I'm alive, still breathing, though the chest feels so empty, like it's missing something I've so long needed. Then I remember the trade I made, to forego the present for a Future laden with everything, thus things fall back into place, and I learn again to live as barely a fraction of my being. Perhaps if I keep writing, keep painting, with letters a Portrait, we'll be reminded always of who we've been. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

During Hajj, there were some moments that became Moments. That is to say, instants where one cannot do anything except acknowledge Allah and how everything goes back to, and comes from, Him.

One such Moment:

After first landing in Saudi, we're doing Umrah. Near the end of the Tawaf, as I'm moving (or rather, flowing with the crowd) near the Ka'bah, I somehow lose my Hajj group badge from around my neck (apparently torn off, lots of human traffic). It's an ID we aren't supposed to lose as there wasn't any replacement, fairly essential to logistics with hotels and etc. I don't realize the badge is gone until I'm walking back to my hotel room, with the expected sinking feeling of "oh my God, that just happened". After a few seconds/minutes, I accept it, start thinking about what potential future consequences might be. Right around that time, I get the inclination that I should mention the loss in our Whatsapp group, just in case someone familiar picks it up. I'm not expecting anything, as there's thousands of people going around the Ka'bah, like no way I find it again, right? Still, I'm feeling really down about it, and like a minute or so later, someone replies to my Whatsapp message....a group member found my ID....and not just any group member...a roommate of mine...and not just any roommate, literally, the guy from the bed next to me is the one who has it. Lol. The probabilities...smh.....unfathomable. SubhanaAllah, always.

If we don't realize how blessed we are, it's just because our eyes aren't opened enough. Perhaps not as obvious as this, but it's truly all right there, just waiting for us to see them and give shukr to Allah for. 

I would go into other Moments, but they seem a bit too personal so I'll leave them be. One is easy enough to relate though: I got completely lost from my group, couldn't get in touch with anyone due to no Wifi, and our meetup was supposed to be heading to a new hotel or something. I'm doing Sa'y and from Safa and Marwa, I'm pausing now and then to see if I can catch any familiar faces. I can't, there's way too many people and my mind is super out of it (partly tired, partly cold/flu-ish). Eventually, I get to I think Safa and I stop and make dua there, asking my Rabb to not let me be lost. Maybe a minute or less later, some group members walk by, and I only recognize them because one of them turns around and is wearing the (Qalam) group bag...that was TOTAL panic averted alhamdulillah. Intense.

I wish people turned to their Creator more often, opened/kept open that avenue of communication that's based on not only need, but accepting one's own slavehood.  It's the only way to forging a path not only in dunya but into akhirah too. Among the lessons that Hajj reinforced, this was another for me to keep close forever. 

Condensation

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

(reply to "Transient Mist")

If only I were the mountains, where the fog rolls through, how amazing to feel, it condensing on my slopes, like grass meeting morning dew. It wouldn't matter how long I had, how many seconds or minutes, I'd relish every instant, surrounded by your mist. And no, that stone, my face, wouldst never remain the same, whether tracks from salty eyes, or just the accrued impressions, of years and hopes still growing, still developing, no inch of mine would remain dry, never to evaporate, for even stone can soak such rain, deep inside itself every drop it takes, so it might fill the heart, might fill my lake, keeping fresh upon the tongue, the sweetness of a thing I've always chased.

Sandy Shore

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

(sometime during Day 3 or 4 of Hajj)

you're the sand on my beach,

   without which

   I would never be complete.

for what is a shore,

   what scene can it make,

   if everything is there,

   but has no sand

   to put what's left in place?

it's not about stepping into

   or out of,

   you're what my waves 

   mix with,

   when tides want to rush over or up.

when I try to

   fashion my sandcastle dreams,

what do you think they're made of?

   If not all that you mean? 

there are no accidents,

   no missed timings,

just as a miner finally mines

   from his diamond's rough,

what his Rabb kept safe;

   the best worth finding. 

from this sandy shore,

   with these innumerable grains,

   whether in midst of day

   or in shade of night,

is my gaze drawn up

towards our Sky,

   where lives its goal:

the spark to Life.