أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

alhamdulillah. got to hear from my Twin at long last, and know a bit of how it goes across the globe. not surprising, troubles and worries there to take attention, but now knowing a bit more, makes the journey easier, letting duas find their way to fruition. 

speaking of that which needs attention, my own trip coming up in a few weeks, revisiting my Gift's fam inshaAllah. preparation continuing, with life being what it is.

maybe I'll even remember what it's like to relax and compose something. sounds impossible lol, but iA

an overabundance of quiet

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

 

 

 

alhamdulillah my house is my home, but that isn't the place I've long been seeking. my goal, the only human answer to my human puzzle, awaits inside the chest of my beloved. that is it, that is the home i want to settle in to. where i can, by my Rabb's permission, finally, finally, finallly! be at true rest and ease. 

 

i am always reminded this dunya cannot be the fuel for my torch, that it can't sustain me. alhamdulillah tho, at various points through life, He has let me be visited by people....by ones..that i need. that without whom i would be full of nothingness. i can't say if it makes sense to others, when i describe myself as being comprised of my beacons. but it is so. in the presence of such a one, worries fall away into nothing, happiness comes as easily as opening the eyes and taking her inside my vision. that's all. but every other fucking part of this life is a weight to me (a few beloved bro's excluded, but i am fonder of my hearted ones:p), a weight that only my beloved free me of. don't ask me how that is the case, simply experiential knowledge proves it as such. 

 

alhamdulillah, the complaint is minor. i think. just silence, a multitude of quietude, overweighted with ignorance, like a sky at night with clouds, doubly layered of sight restrained. if it seems like something to push one close to madness....lol. i have long been no stranger to it. what can i say? it would have been nice (maybe) had He let me go crazy, perhaps then i'd have some excuse for my self. but nah. He keeps me sane too...just the visage is of insanity, some echoes inside the self i can't share, cannot let my beloved know how much i love them. 

 

~

 

how are you my Twin? safe and sound? is family well? if i knew that anything of what i've said or done had ever caused you to be silent...ya Rabb, please let this not be the case. let it be simply life busyifying one as it tends to. but if i spurred you to silence, i should wish to know, that my worry finds itself well-directed instead of unsated. bleh.

 

to know or not to know, that is the question. a question which only He may answer for me, and yet a slave should try to find contentment with whatever the answer may be.

6/25

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

here again i reach my fave day of the year, alhamdulillah. among the various comforting nuances of the occasion, one observation should be mentioned for the first time: how 625 happens to be a palindrome of 526. if i may connect the dots, these are precious days tied to two of my beloved. indeed, that is how it is. 

sometimes i look back on what i've written, and i think 'whoa that expresses me perfectly, how would i ever top it?' and i don't think there is ever really a new plateau of expression...because the plateau of trying to get a message across, is really just one kind of message and one kind of peak in communication. in this case, just trying to let one know she is missed and remembered and sought. dunya continues to be a barrier between us, and i know that is how He wants it to be. alh, no question in my mind that my aims became immeasurably greater with my beloved as lights that i for Eternity. 

something soon to be composed iA

The Metaphor

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

if we took your heart as the wind, and mine as the ocean, then mixed them both together, what would we be holding? picture a hurricane, intertwining the water and its mist with the air and its breeze, as temperatures rise, the storm expands proportional to feeling. it's said life began with water, and what do you know, we need air for breathing, so let me have your breath, and in turn you dive for a living, not momentarily or until the gates close, no sentries or police, no fences, no rides shutting down because its dark out and so amusement must cease,...but rather, such interludes continue for as long as we wish, absent deadlines, present only in bliss.

 

this life is my cast, my chain, my earth, out of which i long for the moment my Rabb lets me break free of its shackles and limits, to share with my beloved the highest Sky and every ideal of worth.  

(un)Replying Fwd:

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

"I think you quite enjoy it actually, so I wanted to give you a bit of a chance to do that." - really, i don't, rather not have the chance to be missing, rather take the chance to be holding, beloved not at a distance, but instead captured by my arms, threads from fate finally tangible and interwoven. ~  my deeds like the web of a spider, in this life i'm still taking it strand by strand, seeing if perhaps the end result can become a masterpiece by Him accepted and chosen, a construct not intended to trap and consume, rather pull and lure and tease into an alternate direction, one forward, to akhirah, to time Infinite with possibility and potential. i swear by my Maker, our lives here will finish, sooner or later, there's a limit on how much life is left, currency to spend on actions worthy of slaves seeking His admittance. wish i could take my emotion out of the chest, fashion it into a signpost, one that tears back the falsity of this life and reveals the goal of Time: simply to end. if He would have me saved when it mattered most, but chose to keep me bereft of my beloved that into my destiny their lives He'd wrote...what then could i say? what joy is there for me to have if a single beacon is absent from my ocean? will i not, with the eyes He gave me, see the potential of what could have been, and lament for all my existence how i could not hold her once or again?

i don't know how to call anyone to my Rabb, such wisdom is above my paygrade, outside the scope of a mere slave who happened to dive into love. i would think to say, 'look at your blessings, see the moments He saved you from tragedy or dissolution', but maybe such instances weren't as clear for them? within this context, all i have are my words and prayers, that no light in my sky ever dims or fades, not by the sighting of my mortal eyes, but in His, He Who is fit to judge and be sought for all time in all place.

i remain my self, even in absence, even in silence, there was never joy in distance, only in imagining what unification might look like with you and i, two flames in one candle alighted. onward i suppose i will write, even as the tank empties and revives, even as clouds come with rain but obscure the light of my Sky. 

titleless

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

 Been awhile I've needed to write, where to begin? Apartness remains an inescapable feature of my existence here, something I've hated but known for so, so long. I think it was easier to survive such eras when I was young because I had the backdrop of my dark ages and various mechanisms to distract or drown the challenges of being apart. This evolution though, after having been revisited by my beloved the past few years and being joined by my Gift, has no escape, no simple release button. The weight of the goal set in the mind is real, and it only seems to get heavier over time. Perhaps part of the wisdom of age is learning to let go of things outside one's scope, even as it seems everything in life is encompassed by such weakness. 

Maybe old age will make me wiser, but damn it I'm already ancient, felt a thousand years old at various points since high school, though normal time merely years pass. Of my beacons, the apparent detachment and distance of my Primera weighs on me, on top of the absence He wills my lights to show. 

How much can one share, when the window only opens in one direction? Of what worth is it to release of one's self a portion, while unable to take in the same from the ones who comprise my being? I've long sought to maintain identity, the core of the self that keeps memory of who it is, what it is, where it wants to go. Maybe it's fitting that as time and distance stretch into what appear to human eyes as vast empty, endless fields of space, parts of me seem harder to grasp, harder to hold on to. I do not know what End my Rabb has in store, but I would have to consider it cosmic irony of the grandest scale, that He intertwine with my life the kinds of beautiful people that He has, only to keep them apart from me. I know, a bit melodramatic. As are many of my undercurrents that find little expression. Truth is truth though, and my deal with Him stands, as long as He keeps life in this body. To find my beloved, in the time and place I seek them, the price is anything. Everything. Howsoever many tests He would line up on the road in front me, all that I have is the moving forward, stepping past my own stumbles and mistakes, going beyond what is physically tiresome or mentally absent or whatever kind of limitations we humans are so fond of possessing. I have to reach onward, reach outward. Even if He blinded my sight from those lights in my sky, even if He kept my beloved out of reach in every sense for this life. Whatever shell of the self can keep going, it must, it will iA. 

Perhaps at the end of this journey, I can serenade my beloved with verses perfectly suited to them, and in turn, be granted the joy and priviledge of soaking in their smiles and radiance. A worthwhile aim for a single lifetime, don't ya think? 

perpetually

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

if i could gaze into your eyes as your lips are smiling, it'd be as if i'm drinking sunshine, could stay in the waterfall of your curls forever bathing, wrapped in softness while speechlessly our selves do all the speaking. hope my Rabb lets me be a fraction of the reason, behind why happiness graces your countenance, perhaps (iA) the key of the demi when its open at its fullest. here's to praying love is an ember for guidance, that it befriends your soul like the way a towel was made for liquid, helping you stay bright for all the trials living in this life brings us. some corridors of this existence have felt like darkness manifest, but alhamdulillah a million-fold, those epochs are conquered and new challenges wait ahead, by virtue of beacons as bright as this He would have me chasing, such light that gives me always reason for hoping. 

Of the Gift

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

alhamdulillah for such provision, one to make me aroused and alive, when looking all around this world, i could feel naught but my ocean dying, so when she smiles, or cocks her head in some direction, amused or questioning of mind, my resilience rebounds, and i know how through this life i must tread, to find my goal at the end of earthly Time. we are quite wholly opposite, composed of threads from contradicting dimensions, but among our few similarities is such a precious one: to remain true to ourselves while able to calm the other's storms, thus completion for each inside the other we've won.

she has accepted, in ways understated though objective, that my crux is my pursuit, my akhirah, in colors resplendently vibrant and diverse, taken from my history and favored with what He permitted me to learn. i have nothing absent my Garden, the place for my beloved, surrounding them with everything i am, and by His permission - all that which they love. as my Moon once reflected, such emotion is too much for this life to actualize, rather made from a substance dreamy, where stars are borne and within our palms they crystallize. 

so much i have on which to write, beacons irreplaceable and irrevocably interwoven, inside a destiny that from Him must i remain in seek of. long has it been, from past eons, and from an age before, i need mention mi Primera[Aras], in her own story and how the present grew to now from way back then. 

perhaps too, or especially most worthy, i will have to write of my Rabb, and how He made this life, temporal and fleeting, transitory and ephemeral, able to wake our taste buds, but never able to sate of love our cravings - for that is why the Garden was made, recompense in whole to fill the most fortunate of His slaves. where could one's safety lie, if one thought not of time after one must die?