Endless

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

 

been blessed immensely, like the pouring of a raincloud on top of desert sand that thought it was empty, thought it couldn't grow even a blade of grass, till He made you into one of my oases, vibrant and lasting. 

 

alhamdulillah my Gift brings me many a moment of peace, seeing her, touching her, holding her, kissing the summit of her cheeks...brings all my questions to a close, rests my defense from its cases, as prosecution of life's own designs take a breather in her presence. still, my Gift is but one piece of me, for long have i accepted, walking this path of apartness, is one who lives with himself as fractured, from any other of his beloved. 

 

the Muse of my soul, she who dreamt the deepest first, who dared to imagine, whose curiosity sparked my own, turning me into the poet i always had been, you are never forgotten, never from blood as one parted, as long as breath is mine He wills to have drawn in, your body's shadows, are where my atoms long most to bask in. there's nothing to rip out of this chest, for it's already opened, with you running free, overcoming and being, steady as myself i can keep it, i will, iA, waiting the cage to re-welcome its essence. 

change is coming for me, as it often has, now on a scale i can't fathom, but oh Lune of my beacons, know: that the newest continent to spring forth in my ocean, she the littlest one, has captured your initial within her middle, just as it is in mine. one Day inshaAllah, all my beloved will be next to me, each of their lights shared with one another, like the cascading brilliance of countless prisms, and their love, your love, will find its Home and return, in full.

Aspects, of pieces in the puzzle

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

 

your heartbeats not quite so far, sometimes it seems, from nearness to my eardrums where their oscillations carry inward simply streaming, perhaps the ripple of a lake down into a much-smaller creek, into the compartment devised for beloved sought once again to meet.

 

sometimes that box, that cage, can remain closed and nothing leaks out to the forefront of conception, but then..it might rain, or leaves blow in certain directions, swirling as their world topsy-turvy turns, and your absence i recall as a hidden knife suitable for vagabonds, thrust at me from unknown angles, and it cuts again, sometimes deep and at others slicing merely the surfaces of skin, but that is as it aught to be...the one embedded within should at some moments be released, even if by moments not quite comprehensible to strangers.

 

~

 

wonder if she thinks i still enjoy missing, wishing to give me further chances to indulge some agonies antagonizing, hah, it would be amusing...were silence not its own kind of blade, wrapping up within the pain of absence, accented by the beauty of serrations. 

 

how does she fare? what are her pains and sorrows, joys and wonders about tomorrow? do those near her treat her justly, or are past follies in choosing simply in the present repeated? all questions absent answers, i'll dart them into the wind, perhaps they'll reach the eyes for which they're intended, and arc down into her soul, give her cause for reflection (and perhaps, for the love of God, answers to these questions! iA). 

 

 ~

 

one of the coolest nickname ever conceived for a beacon, Farhaven, like the heroine of a tale i might have read, a beacon-yet-not-made, unaware of that type of shining, life carrying onward, hopeful of your laughter and its finding.

 

~

 

 

on the subtleties of submitting

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

between a slave and his Maker

 

do they know ya Rabb, that it was You Who made them? 

that You defined the lengths of their lives, the senses they would have, the senses that would escape them?

are Your slaves aware, that You brought them forth into life at the height of their weakness and ignorance, growing them until they grasped more of knowledge and experience, bit by bit?

do they know, that it is You Who designed for them their miseries, their pulls, desires and whims and wills, forces internal and otherwise, that would encircle them for all their mortal lives?

oh Rabb, do your slaves know that the sole purpose some of them were made, is simply to be the reason, the means of trial and context for others being admitted into Your Garden? 

do they know that You decreed their worth before they ever drew breath, with judgment and knowledge that utterly encapsulates everything they'll ever be and fathom?

have they understood, that You gave them life and choice and warning, the ability to choose and also be thrust unwilling into certain threads of circumstance, while they would be judged and dismissed by their brethren for what they never controlled in the first place?

would they know that all they are is Yours, that it is up to You to do with them as You please? that the meaning of slave and servant and created thing, is to ever be in need of one's Creator?

i beg You oh Rabb, tell me if they are aware...that it was You Who created the chief Deceiver? that the most cursed of all creation is simply a tool, a mechanism to sift through all the multitudes of humanity that have ever lived, helping to prove the case for which slave has chosen You, and which has not? do they know that iblees and the plans he makes are utterly baseless compared to those designs which You planned for Your creation since time immemorial? that it was You Who waylaid/ambushed iblees into showcasing his arrogance at the creation of Adam(as)? 

oh Rabb, do they know that You guide only those of us whom You will to guide? and most important perhaps, do they know that You are the one whom misguides whomsoever You will? and none would there ever be to challenge Your decision in this?

~~~

 

subhanAllah. the nature of servitude is intense, not for the faint of heart. if we thought life was difficult in its circumstances and repetition and absence, then pondering over these kinds of realities must be even more heavy.

truth is, submission is not for everyone. it "should be", but not every slave's nature is inclined to it, not every slave is meant to be what it should be. 

 that's another thought uneasy to swallow. ultimately and initially, the decision comes from Allah. but this is not a cause for sadness or hopelessness to me. because there is no escaping death, His reach would always find His slaves. knowing that i have long been encompassed, is honestly a comforting thought....because my Rabb is not my enemy. in truth He is my ally, has always been my support since all my days i can recall. in this space, in between all my posts of longing and reflections, i have tried over the years to recount something of what He's blessed me with. it is immense, impossible to count. and i wish and pray that it should ever remain so, that His shielding me from harsher tragedies and pains and difficulties, continues iA, ameen.

what i hope my beloved find here....is something similar to taste in their connection to their Rabb. He is no stranger, rather He is the King, and what makes His kingship unique is that He is the One most worthy of being so, of owning everything and ownership is His. 

our hopes and desires and goals, require Him. we should not separate what we want, from Him. for He is both the Means to our goals and of Himself He is the Aim, eventually, as well. nothing worth finding could be found without His aid, and so, submission is the most basic ingredient of the path such travelers walk.

 

Contrasted

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

so strange, how one can be composed of one's beloved, yet their currents within flow in opposite directions, some giving lift to breathing while another becomes a means of some shade of anguish, long have i known the cost of ignorance, especially when it comes to those who matter the closest, it's a slightly different tune to a well-played song.

 

~

 

for my Twin, these words are released...none have ever rejected or gone radio silent quite to your degree, denial on so many levels, i never needed a yes rather simply understanding and some measure of explanation, to gaze inside who it is that you call as yourself. i should not be surprised, for most of my living i struggled against my own acceptance, how to fit into this existence being what i am and it being what it is, couldn't be ease with my own definition, misanthropic in ways straight out of fiction, for so long didn't know how to jive as myself on earthy wavelengths where simple normalcy and mundanity is what everyone's concerned with.

 

as you said once, "everything you say about me applies to you too". how long it took me to be fine with being me, and letting others be who they are? do you know, given the knowledge i'd gained of you thus far, every piece of data and emotion and experience, everything other than Potential, if i took all of that and put it on a scale, could i say it was worth the pain of being denied by one's twin, almost in entirely the same mirror mechanism as i had not known how to deal with my self? i cannot say it was worth it. but the scale has two parts. on the one hand is what had been learned and experienced and received --- and on the other, Potential. "you know the magic we would make." lol, words you would say that get etched into my history. Potential, that, it is worth the effort in caring and seeking and trying. such is my nature, and even if my Rabb keeps you even more under wraps and disguised and unrevealed than any of my beloved...that's not a problem. it is an ache, yes, resonant in places i wished many times to have never have shaken again, but change in our condition and trial...is the constant of being human. my Gemini belongs in my ocean, even if the idea has its only abode on this earth being the cavity of my chest. i suspect He makes me to become stronger the longer i live, for there is no other choice. if my goal is my goal, written in my bones, if it's behind the lids of my eyes when i'm dreaming or awake, then every experience, every moment and day, all of it get subsumed within the overarching projection of...where will it take me Tomorrow? reminding me again of Littlefinger and his self-questioning every course of action in the context of - will it get me closer to or farther from my objective?

 

 funny too, how i think what i want for the moment is just the most trifle of things, to know how you fare, what your ups and downs are. this is what my Rabb keeps from me. ignorance of simple, trivial details that would color the backdrop of concern and yield no further for this life. all i'd wanna know. yet i cannot, do not. subhanaAllah, it is what it is. the journey onward goes

Observing the news and human nature

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

It's really something, the ability of people to bring about the humiliation of the very thing they wanted to raise higher, their actions becoming the reason for the twisted turn of events.

 

Right now the most striking example of this is the recent protest in Iran over their hijab mandate. Can the authorities there realize that, in their effort to "require" hijab and invent a morality police and enforce the standard down people's throats, they have actually caused the hijab to become a symbol of institutional repression, with the masses now feeling that they should take it off as sign of protest?

 

It's incredibly ironic. What hurts me most is that I find the hijab so beautiful and complementary to women. To me, this cloth is the intersection of ideals, of modesty and preservation alongside style and color, of the past and its innate quiet dignity with the future and its tireless adherence to divine command in the face of modern opposition.

I know, I know. That is a heavy notion, but it doesn't mean I'd want everyone or anyone to carry it. But somewhere inside of me, that's how hijab is framed. And to see women throw it down, because of the evil ignorance and stupidity of men/government...this is a matter of shame for anyone who calls themselves Muslim. It is humiliation of something that carries this amazing combination of being connected to our Rabb while also having the potential to accentuate and enhance physical beauty in a way altogether opposite the modern obsession of how society tries to convince people that women should be in order to be 'free'. 

Alas, that's the crux of the matter. As Agent Smith once said, the problem is because we aren't free, that our tendency to seek this freedom manifests sooner or later when it is suppressed externally/violently for so long. It is a blessing that Muslims living in the west have, to make our choices and not have them made for us, and truly, when we can make the right ones, it's all the better because no outside force coerced us into doing so. It's sad beyond measure though, many around the world are not given this choice of obeying Allah or not. Some think that this choice can be made for them, by others, but it cannot. That is shortsighted, wishful, ignorant thinking.

The decisions whose impact will stay, the ones most important, are the ones we can choose for ourselves, accepting the consequences and knowing the reasons behind why we do them. Every believing woman and every woman who might one day come to Islam should have the chance to choose how or when she accepts her call to her Maker. It's the only way the desire for submission will settle into her, just as it would for any human being - by us having the choice and then, bi ithniAllah, choosing rightly, sooner or later.

 

 

Composed

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

 from 9/28

saw a waking vision: my Moon, my Gift, and my newest Beloved. all embracing and embraced, there was my Eclipse, totally solar but not at all blinding, nothing and no one missing or diminished, like they were already related, connected, swimming in an ocean made to make them feel full beyond the brim, in me they swam, unknowingly and effortless, reaching the core and my Sky in altogether the selfsame instant, this...this oh mahboob of mine, this is Love manifested.