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.