بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

From a few months ago:

12/27

oh Self, be not villain to my aims, assassin in the night, politician by day, as you try to warp all light, leaving me but suffocated. Was so simpler then, not so simple now, as “wife” becomes antibody + antigen, both pill and poison for which the willing drown. I can’t splice these veins, though I wish I could, show you how the bleeding bled, not in drops of blood or things so red, but the Need of a heart unmet. Do I speak still to my nafs, or has the audience shifted? Like a tumbled weed in deserts arid, listless, these things considered over and over, a tree yearning for its roots to find relief in soil full of life and meaning. Of a coin, one side madness and the other love, here I am oh Rabb, nearly chopped to pieces or burnt for firewood, I could not speak of -[unfinished]

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alhamdulillah, progression comes, always the price, everything there to give, to keep steady the march, onward through this life. wish at times, I'd glimpse more of my Future's hand, as we walk in stride, towards a meeting destined as the sun and its setting. all is well, whatever is found, His gifts He chose to give, that I might keep my sight, only upward bound.