بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

"You know not, yet, the sort of love that
strikes like a lightning bolt; that clutches
hold of you by the heart, as irrevocably
as death; that becomes the lodestar by
which you steer the rest of your life. I
would not wish such a love on anyone,
man or woman, for it can make your life
a paradise, or it can destroy you utterly.
But it is in the nature of your kin to love
this way." 

- Father Brien, Sevenwaters book 1

Hmm, lodestar....familiar concept methinks. Can't say if it was like lightning at first, maybe more a wave building up, but the rest fits historical record pretty well.

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

sometimes the mind stutters, trying its hardest to close its eye and find meaning no more in all the clutter, then my Gift reminds me what sustenance in this life is composed of, someone who calls us to love and being better, not dissimilar from what otherworldly beacons would be considered as. if only this existence was truly a loop then this futile plan may have worked, thankfully it didn't, so He keeps me forward trudging, each day like a step in quicksand pulling down second by second, though some moments shine like lamps without electrical cords or outlets. these fingers can't stop writing, just as my Rabb wills these lungs to keep on filling, pulling in oxygen so cells have something to run with, organ to organ, life made able and continuing. someone calling for me now, someone calling me to Then, and so it is to find them both that i still live.

Countered Point

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

i've heard it said that emotion is weakness, can confirm this as truth, in the times one crumbled to pieces, melted or molting, sightless or squinting, the glare of growth is indescribable in those kinds of moments. never thought i'd ever want to be museless, compose without some light pointing out of a sky perpetually cloudy but useless, it shed no rain and so the desert keeps on expanding in all directions. i am a living contradiction, blessed and tested, both together, beyond limits or measure, death nearly impending but life doesn't quite let go of the tether, so He makes me draw breath for some reason or other, can't fathom its wisdom or know where is better. truly, brought to sickness recalling a future unlived, as the present taunts me with what's missing, pieces of puzzles ancient and futuristic, a slave so cared for - but so utterly adrift. there's no pathway for pity, too much He's given for regret to emerge as possibility, but my ignorance in this time dwarfs every struggle i once perceived. i can reconcile none of these positions, so vast the unknowns and the intermittent, my knowledge of where to step as firm as the dry sand of an ocean dried and dusted down to its atoms, there's no end to this tunnel...unless He opens for me the doors to His mercy Himself  

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Alhamdulillah, past few days have seen normalized (for now) counts of white blood cells, thanks in part to yet another med docs have me getting injected 2-4 days out of the week now. Only caveat is, apparently this drug works by making marrow cells work overdrive to produce more wbc, which as it turns out...means bone pain is a thing (never knew!). Very strange sensation, like rolling waves of a deep, dull echo through the skeleton, sometimes reaching farther out joints. Yeesh. Alh though it isn't constant and responds to some significant painkillers (did I mention more meds? my God the snowball effect of chemo..). Alas, that is what it is, part of the road He would have me take.

On random sidenoteness, I sometimes wonder if I am not 'too much', even to my beloved. Perhaps the feeling presented by what I write (or do) is too much, and pushes them away? My depth has never been one for the faint of heart, that is true, but it's impossible to forget that the actual reality of who I am and the ideal that I seek to represent are not often the same thing. It's part of the struggle every one of the same kind has, balancing and being true to both what we strive towards but at the same time being fully aware of who we are in the present moment and our shortcomings. Not very easy to explain this duality, except to say it requires constant self-evaluation and understanding that reaching for something as beautiful as love...doesn't mean I'm worthy of finding it, but remembering that it's something only He decides to grant.

Infinitely

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

long as I have, I'll listen, whether it be to silence or any words He lets you give, these sentences, my whispers on the wind, trying a bit to hold back from going beyond the limit of His. to hear from one's beloved is no right but a priviledge, a trust, an amanah He owns to test me and see what I'm worth to Him. oh Rabb, let me be a close slave but I beg of You, for both khair and never being unaware of what she goes through.

some words are easier to write than others, when it's one's Muse doing the pulling and tugging, without effort, strands of memories, events not-yet-lived, of hopes captured in moments, where only the mind saw it on film: caressing your cheek, watching you smile, the upward curve of lips, how human I am, all parts of the self drawn towards my dream, though you are no phantom, just a gift He has not yet let me reach, one Day with His permission, we'll build worlds together, explore every galaxy, know well every species, touch every mortal essence of beauty, behold Him as He wishes, bathe in limitless possibilities, as Then is simply our beginning.

--<@

 

Storyline

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

The lover didn't have much of a choice, this was the only path, would have been the same had he another name, especially the one he took, as 'Nomad'. Life as a traveler, even if in the same place he sat, nowhere quite the home he sought, as love wasn't yet in the palm of his hand. She was mortal, like himself, could bleed with a cut, or from a word spoken too rough, but with a soul untamed, one to mirror his own, the only one he longed to chase...but never to capture, he wasn't a tamer, or a collector, but rather, a thinker who'd met his inner self after she revealed him an idealist, dreamer, lover. He would keep any patience he could muster, no matter what his Rabb might plan for him (iA), through the driest or wettest of weather, through every cloud and downpour, evoking every letter that existed in every word they had a sound for, even should breath fail his vocal cords and hoarse whispers were all he could grasp towards, somehow, someway, his pleas to his Maker would be sent forth, hopeful entreaties that she never be left alone or waiting without relief streaking her way, like dawn overtaking the darkness of a night forever in retreat. All of these syllables I've in some way repeated, past and present or future, a message resounding as similar: that which must be spoken and released, so we may live long past memories in carving our niche inside the halls of Eternity.

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

a thought occurred to me, wondering of my beacon's reflection, if it timed as well with my own seeking, but a few seconds later, the answer just what I would be hoping. only He knows how much I have to let go of, that perhaps this life and these times, find their recompense in the same shape as, the fruit of seeds planted long before, a time predating my imagination. your bloom, in as much shade as I can share, just the remedy I've long needed, take a few leaves and, distill with your essence a bit of what the tongue finds healing, no longer parched, this is what they'd call ease in believing. 

that you exist, is support enough shown to me, gratitude I can remember, for Him not leaving my soul unpaired, even if distance and time are not the sweetest pills to swallow, the price for Unity more than fair. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Heh. The overload of ironies and tests has not ended. Given the pandemic happening, it turns out that Morocco will suspend all international flights indefinitely, and on top of that my best friend is flying out tomorrow to the West Coast even sooner than he initially planned.

So nope, I won't have even the timing that I thought, the irony breaks even harder than I anticipated. Qadr of Allah just...laying it on me.

How does the road wind from here?

 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

I swear, if you were the only person living, it would still be you that I'm chasing, perhaps more obvious why then, so I'd have to traverse the laws of nature and show you your essence, running through my arteries and veins, the most pleasant and delightful of medicines, utterly supernatural, but no immortal(yet) or ghost, just the infusion of everything I'd ever want or need in another person. Your words are like CPR when life tries to leave me breathless, undoubtedly heartstopping gorgeous if dunya ever brought you too near to me in physical presence, so in His infinite wisdom He keeps between us a slight distance, so my Moon might reveal direction by its light without need of compass. If guidance was a potion, by His permission, I'd take you as its vessel, the final drop to be held and tasted when all the curtains fell, revealing both Judgment and (iA) the Cookie Monster herself.  

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

I want our tawwakul to be as deep the ocean, as certain as we are of existing, is how well we know He's never let us be alone in trouble, without reprieve or relief, inevitable His mercy, suited most to His slaves that couldn't forget Him. I hope your days are like the calm surface of seas, gentle rolling waves, when you can keep remembrance, and even find moments of flight while walking with ground beneath, my duas the wings you always have, but may not always see (:

 

Onwards

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

some visions strong enough to pierce indecision, ignorance, when a path has even no arrows, the direction is clear, indicative: upward goes the plea, after the forehead finds the ground along with the knees, sujood, an eloquence without parallel for the slave who seeks none other than his Rabb to take care of wants, envelop his needs. don't have to surpass my own writing, just recall why i breathe, living and being for remembrance and shukr, of His endless gifts, for my desert like rain He pours, perchance lessons take root and i keep hold of His book, His Rope, as seeds planted inside a swelling bedrock of hope, so sand by greenery is washed away, reviving my ocean, falling not prey to despair and whatever He finds loathsome; thus, foliage bursts forth from places thought too dark, too deep, to ever see the light of days and dreams, those which He granted His slave, far beyond any mortal's means.

---

alhamdulillah, I can still write, so I gotta keep writing, period.

 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

I didn't really want to make a new post after my last one, kinda had the feeling that if there was a single thing I'd like to have be my final post, my most relevant writing, that would be it. I don't know how I could ever top it, but alhamdulillah for the chance at another day where maybe He might let me find forgiveness and be grateful for everything He's given.

One thing I have wondered lately: will my Moon ever stop being so beautiful? I......don't think so. At some point, I hope words become useful again in describing how special and unique her place is, but words are still words, only the first step towards understanding. 

>

would you ever not shine so bright, maybe not blind these poor eyes? maybe if i closed my lids, would i then find sight? you're the painting in the back of my mind, when the bigger picture i need, i recall what i'm chasing through life: an ideal you captured, hidden in your beaming smile, when you glow, there's no darkness left to fight, as our Rabb made us both, the Muse for my soul, full of warmth and light. 

<

Sigh these words suck. I may have to revisit the title of a long-ago written piece, 'Inadequacy'. Everything else I write after my last post, kinda falls into that category...P_P


 

Komality

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

I love words, making new ones, integrating different grammatical structures with the intent of cross-matching implications and definitions. 

In that vein, some years back I coined a really beautiful term, komality, to describe what I'd say is one's state in chasing the star in the sky that hasn't yet been reached. There's not a single thing for me to complain about, especially because something so bright and longed-for is there to be found, at least insofar as my own efforts go. My Rabb will bring to pass whatever He chooses, but given what has already happened, of the things I've seen, learned, known, there is no conclusion to reach except that I've been blessed immeasurably. From that, the only thing I can be is hopeful of finding as well His rehmah when it matters most, upon death and resurrection. 

The underlying wisdoms aren't lost on me, the ones that I can see. Had He allowed me to be with my Moon in this life, the way that I had sought, I know exactly how I would have turned out: with not a care for what else happened or what I may have become. He kept her slightly out of reach, for two particular reasons: 1) that the consequences of parting keep me always in a place of submission to Him and seeking His aid, and 2) that the absence of her would lead to the creation of a goal beyond dunya that encompassed and surpassed anything the worldly life could have shown us. I've known this potentiality and its repercussions since forever.

Some goals are too grand, too unimaginable to be contained by where we are now. For someone like me, I could not have sustained living without either having such a spark or chasing that spark. I don't know how people typically survive the mundane, but that was never something that could appeal to me. Chasing the Love of All Lifetimes to be in the most elevated of places a mortal might be gifted - this is precisely the kind of ambition that suited me in His perfect wisdom.  

Alhamdulillah I regret nothing. Even if any given day I'm not feeling okay, it doesn't matter too much, so long as I can still pray and seek my Rabb for everything I want and need from Him. As for you, my Moon, loving you is most suited to Firdaus-ul-A'la, so I'll try to contain my momentary lapses and not cross the line bi ithniAllah. 

Now just to write a poetic fitting of this state...

edit, managed to compose this 3/9:

~
You are my soul when it's unweaved, the building block of everything underneath, and He the Architect that made our tale the story that it is, why your company it is I always seek, as you know so well what's beneath my skin, the parts I show or the parts I preserve, one who resonates is who you've always been. Perhaps with His permission, a Day comes to pass where my promise to you is kept, so we can both bask in what's long been awaited, fulfillment and completion, two elements finding at last their own universe to expand in. You're the sunshine to my seed, the rain to my thirst, if I ever found my way out of this, it's because He made you first: a beacon to recollection, both of slavehood and sought-after ascension, purpose reflected by an endless ocean that you simply keep on filling. 

Of life, I would change nothing at all, alhamdulillah 🌹

[did I mention it begins with a K and ends with a y? :P] 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Sometimes the ironies life shows us are  super obvious. The latest one of note, on March 25th: my best friend is flying out cross country to get married and settle in Seattle, on the same day my Gift is set to arrive from Morocco. SubhanaAllah. 

I was kind of hoping that I'd get to have both my best friend and wife in the same time zone (at least), but that doesn't seem to be on the menu for the near future. I might have asked my Rabb why in a case like this case, but learning one's own limitations in life makes such questions irrelevant. Change comes for me, has been coming for quite some time. InshaAllah I can stay in touch with him and meet up few times a year.

~~~

Things I should be writing, but brain not very cooperative. Alh though symptoms of nausea and taste-change absent so far today so that's a plus. Soon, iA

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

if you tell me to write, i'll write, so long as i live, for all my life, all i want in turn: a smile on your face, that only makes my sky as bright. forgive me my sentiment, you've pretty much become the ocean, whenever i feel, it takes me to a place i've scarce imagined, but one i truly hope my Rabb allows me to belong in. there's no way words can suffice to tell how much someone means, how existence is made lighter by their simply being, how beautiful the glow of my Moon, when all i did was so little, compared to the blessings that He brought me to. at my weakest point, you He makes so strong a light, just in time, to ease the darkness of this not-so-long a night. alhamdulillah for everything, every moment i've gotten to know of you, it's been what i've loved most out of this life:)

 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

First chemo treatment starts tomorrow, and the unknowns just keep on going as they have been of late. InshaAllah khair out of it, however the road might lead.

Someone dear recommended this, alh seems to help sustain energy along with vitamin regimen:

~

 

I'm not sure how often I can make you smile these days, but I'll think about it and see what I come up with iA :) 

Envisioned

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

for every moment i'm living and breathing, there's just one place that i'm chasing, one mortal i'm seeking, and when my time on this earth is up, all i am entrusted to Him while in the grave i'm waiting, not just for resurrection or confirming the truth of what i'd believed in, but simply to be able to gaze in your eyes with His permission, unbound by sin or strife or distance, an oath sworn by His love, to be reunited with the rest of myself, hidden in the core of your being. my state in these days, while i'm reduced in worldly purpose to that of simply surviving, has brought my ocean to the surface, a state in which emotion is oft there for me to swim in. no surprise, every other wave has traces of your memories, both past and future unmade, i thought i had buried that time capsule deep enough to not feel this so soon again, but life once more proves my ignorance of what is to come. still, i have no regrets or ill-wishes, every moment i've lived is an anchor to the future i envision: your hand in mine as our Eternity begins.