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.

 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

On the way back from the Haram in Makkah, after the Farewell Tawaf, a friend asked me what everything had meant to me, how did I feel, or some question along those lines. I couldn't really answer him well enough in one word, so I reached back to a metaphor I'd conceived back in June (ah yes, fateful, endearing June, with its unforgettable thundershowers). 

In something describing me, hope was the arrow nocked in a bow, an arrow immune to every force of this worldly life, with the bow representing the sum of all my experiences/efforts/blessings from my Rabb. 

My answer to him was this: I felt Hajj become the decisive force, the tipping point to gather all momentum, the singular event that finally unleashed my arrow from its bow, streaking towards its target. I think he understood, for he replied "inshaAllah". 

But did I? Alas, even as one who has thought he knew, the challenge ahead is daunting. What kind of road am I trying to forge, to find Allah's mercy in its fullest imaginable expression? Am I prepared? Do I dare wonder at the responsibilities endowed on such a slave who dares to dream so far beyond his scope? I am still yet mortal, never sinless, no saint just sinner, entangled into a life that so oft runs contrary to what I long for. Oh Rabb, where am I now?