- in the name of Allah -
Among other thoughts lately, it occurs to me that the notion of "fighting fate" is a very flawed one. It is not fate that one is ever truly fighting, but rather one's own self. I suspect fate is an easy scapegoat for one who's faced troubles that take more than he has to defeat them, so by blaming 'fate', there's no need to accept responsibility for one's own part in the failure.
No doubt I've done this in the past, in some attempt to understand things too painful to swallow while too shortsighted myself to see beyond them. I do not think the human being ever needs to worry about fighting predestination/qadr/fate/time/etc. All of these are just excuses and pretenses created by the weaknesses of our lesser selves and shayateen, so that we wallow in the misery created instead of being able to open our eyes to something greater. In essence, if we give in to the temptation to lay blame on something else, we invite despair into our lives. For if the afflicted one can blame something else, then what else is there for him but to despair that it happened because he had not control over it and thus justify to himself his lowered state?
It is true we do not control what comes tomorrow, what the weather may be, whether we will even live or die a year or second from the present moment. But I suspect the weakness we have to deny responsibility plays a large role in overstating how important "control" actually is. Truly, it is not as mighty as we give it credit for, especially because the human being is not at the center of the universe, not even his own if seen at a personal level.
Maybe the most important crux of Islam is the ability of submission, to accept that Allah is greater than anything and everyone, that the highest position of a living being is to be considered His slave. Unquestionably it's hard to give in to this notion. Human beings love their sense of independence and self-direction and choosing the path they want. Perhaps in all other facets of life this can be indulged to a small degree. But the exception is and must be with Allah, that our recognizance of His ultimate dominion over everything and especially over us remains steady in our vision. No matter what our societies shape, no matter what technologies we form, it does not and can never compare to Allah and His creation of all that exists to begin with. Being able to place the self and ourselves as a species on the right balance of things, that is where the strongest and best path to serenity is.
It is also true that not everyone is given the ability to submit. Wealth, power, influence, children, looks, etc, all of these are given howsoever Allah wills to whomever He wills. But being able to submit, that is to declare Allah supremely above one's self and one's self immensely below Allah, that is given by Allah only to those whom He loves. For those who do not care for that, who do not seek Allah, this presents no issue. When they disregard Him, they only risk being disregarded by Him; their recompense not a thing far off.
But what if one does care to be loved by Allah? How to seek Him? The answer really is amazingly simple: just make dua and ask Him to make one among those whom He loves. The beauty of this is that, if Allah loves someone, He creates pathways for him or her to find Him, see Him in aspects of life, makes guidance a thing beloved to that individual. Something so incredible, and I think the way there is so unimaginably simple: to ask Him.
3.14.2017
3.12.2017
- in the name of Allah -
Memory Preserved
some memories are born as roses, with our eyes blind to its thorns,
then grow their way into pain, as we cut our mind on promises worn.
along the way, some may choose to let them fade,
like a flower past its bloom, laid as hope wreathed upon a grave.
for a time, this was the choice for my self I made,
to fall upon a sword, and relish the only thing to feel as pain.
but glory all belongs to my Rabb, who decreed my path not done,
He brought back to life those roses dried, in splendor beheld as light.
thus for now, with all the days of mine on this earth remain,
just planting seeds for tomorrow, so they might shine in His shade.
Memory Preserved
some memories are born as roses, with our eyes blind to its thorns,
then grow their way into pain, as we cut our mind on promises worn.
along the way, some may choose to let them fade,
like a flower past its bloom, laid as hope wreathed upon a grave.
for a time, this was the choice for my self I made,
to fall upon a sword, and relish the only thing to feel as pain.
but glory all belongs to my Rabb, who decreed my path not done,
He brought back to life those roses dried, in splendor beheld as light.
thus for now, with all the days of mine on this earth remain,
just planting seeds for tomorrow, so they might shine in His shade.
3.11.2017
- in the name of Allah -
Dreams are like chandeliers, they need light to shine at them so their true brilliance can show. A chandelier in the dark reflects nor amplifies nothing, just gathers dust. But once it has light coming in, it scatters the rays in various directions, brightening not just the initial trajectory but anything else nearby as well. In a house built on stable foundations, with the right support and design, the chandelier adds to the overall sense of beauty and purpose. Conversely, adding a chandelier to a dilapidated building only serves to accentuate what its surroundings lack, in contrast making the rundown condition stand out further. Similar is the state of the human being's soul, whether it is neglected and falls into spiritual disrepair, or its nutrition and upkeep is maintained so that the chandelier and other vital parts of the framework stay intact. Time and life and lesser impulses always try to chip away at the paint, to make dents and imperfections in what's being attempted. These will happen. But I'm finding the key is to patch up those flaws at their outset, not give them time to fester and become something worse.
And who better to know how to fix these things, than the one who made them in the first place? - Allah.
Dreams are like chandeliers, they need light to shine at them so their true brilliance can show. A chandelier in the dark reflects nor amplifies nothing, just gathers dust. But once it has light coming in, it scatters the rays in various directions, brightening not just the initial trajectory but anything else nearby as well. In a house built on stable foundations, with the right support and design, the chandelier adds to the overall sense of beauty and purpose. Conversely, adding a chandelier to a dilapidated building only serves to accentuate what its surroundings lack, in contrast making the rundown condition stand out further. Similar is the state of the human being's soul, whether it is neglected and falls into spiritual disrepair, or its nutrition and upkeep is maintained so that the chandelier and other vital parts of the framework stay intact. Time and life and lesser impulses always try to chip away at the paint, to make dents and imperfections in what's being attempted. These will happen. But I'm finding the key is to patch up those flaws at their outset, not give them time to fester and become something worse.
And who better to know how to fix these things, than the one who made them in the first place? - Allah.
- in the name of Allah -
still human I am, still mortal my sight,
live I must, regardless of plight,
seeking a light, to accompany my own,
shackled for now, to one who can't let go,
the iron-y palpable, like pills in overdose,
taste of hemophilia, where wounds won't let close,
my grave will be mine, no one's to share,
dreams and deeds both, to keep company there.
still human I am, still mortal my sight,
live I must, regardless of plight,
seeking a light, to accompany my own,
shackled for now, to one who can't let go,
the iron-y palpable, like pills in overdose,
taste of hemophilia, where wounds won't let close,
my grave will be mine, no one's to share,
dreams and deeds both, to keep company there.
3.09.2017
- in the name of Allah -
Among some recent observations made, a part of the ayah:
Among some recent observations made, a part of the ayah:
وَلَا تَكُونُوا كَالَّذِينَ نَسُوا اللَّهَ فَأَنسَاهُمْ أَنفُسَهُمْ
- Surah Al-Hashr [59:19]
"...and be not like those who forgot Allah, so Allah made them forget themselves..."
It occurred to me that the inverse of this should also hold true: that to remember Allah becomes the means by which the identity of the self is preserved. As forgetting Allah eventually results in losing one's self, so should remembering Allah lead to being able to find one's self as well. And quite literally this is one of the underpinnings of my own existence. The most wholesome peace I have ever known has always been in dhikr of Allah to some extent, whether in praying or dua or just remembering internally. Part of my nature is to try and retain the identity of what makes me 'me', and the only times I've really been able to know this was with Allah, through Him. Any other manifestation of self-awareness or purpose never really reached the potential that an idealist sets up, but the potential with Allah has no limits and retains the perfection in Him as its penultimate goal. What better than to seek the best end with He who made and sustains and ordains everything?
If one seeks to be reminded of who they truly are, then that reality is only going to be found in remembering Allah, keeping a connection to Him open regardless of circumstances or anything else. Human beings need many things, want maybe even more, and seeking that from anywhere else just seems so...inadequate. Why turn to other humans or self-made concepts that arejust as vacuous as our own whims? There aren't any answers there, only more of the void leading to further misery. It'll always amaze me how challenging life is for ideals, to keep them, hold on to them while reality slowly and inevitably tries to burn them away. What's worth having, worth striving for, no doubt doesn't come without its price, to forsake a lesser thing for the greatest reward. Like most things, there's a balance to be struck between accepting everything as it comes and trying to forge something brighter between whatever darknesses befall us. Acceptance doesn't have to mean/imply inaction, internalizing the qadr of Allah shouldn't shortchange the ambition or will of a human being. Rather I would say it should make our flame burn ever brighter to try and seek the ridwaan of Allah. If one sees their path going down a dark or lonely road, then fight the loss, search desperately for truth, make dua without any reservations, struggle against those currents of life that try to drown the human being. Whatever helps us cling to Allah, keeps our focus on Him, helps us understand our need versus His providence, find it, tooth and nail, hold on to it with everything you have. Eventually, after a time of clinging like a half-mad person about to fall off a boat in a stormy sea, the rope settles and becomes so easy to climb, bi ithniAllah. Just that cognizance has to be there that we need Allah, not the other way around.
Some of the darker places I've known in life, total contrast to this now. Life is never without its journeys, without its good and bad, but honestly the best anchor possible I think is only found in akhirah. Keeping a goal for then, wanting and needing it such that one's very existence begins to shift towards it, so the distance between the Seeker and his Sought becomes smaller, day by day, with the help Allah it's a brightness that cannot fade - because it far surpasses what can even be imagined.
3.06.2017
- in the name of Allah -
shards of an echo, grasped once again though they cut in the palms, like a mollusk a starfish can't let go, it's dinner after all, dinner for the soul. might as well be breakfast and lunch too, digest the past and present to make futures worth forging new. the apartness at times gets so compressing, like trying to breathe deep while underwater and no means of venting. alas for the moments-in-between, hiding tomorrow from today, defining clouds not by their being gray, but by rain they might bring to wash over me.
shards of an echo, grasped once again though they cut in the palms, like a mollusk a starfish can't let go, it's dinner after all, dinner for the soul. might as well be breakfast and lunch too, digest the past and present to make futures worth forging new. the apartness at times gets so compressing, like trying to breathe deep while underwater and no means of venting. alas for the moments-in-between, hiding tomorrow from today, defining clouds not by their being gray, but by rain they might bring to wash over me.
3.04.2017
- in the name of Allah -
sometimes the wanderer forgets he's a ghost, starts thinking like a humanoid with typical faults and drives like most. then the reminder hits, like a jolt of supernatural electricity coursing through ethereal veins, what's sought not at all the same as what reality is. one supposes he forgot the moment he steps in that pool of emotion once more, he'll let it swallow him again so he can find out what's in store, whether light really peers so far through.
God, it must be so hard for him to see, trying to think like a normal human being, when his own essence phases in and out of matter as he tries seeking its inner truths while conversation only hampers. what a state for one so out of place, strung into pieces while life around lives and breathes its own musings and meanings. so thus, the wanderer keeps to his dream, tending its crops like a farmer with only his hands to make them into permanence gleam, hopefully reminded of his Rabb regardless how dark the horizon might seem.
sometimes the wanderer forgets he's a ghost, starts thinking like a humanoid with typical faults and drives like most. then the reminder hits, like a jolt of supernatural electricity coursing through ethereal veins, what's sought not at all the same as what reality is. one supposes he forgot the moment he steps in that pool of emotion once more, he'll let it swallow him again so he can find out what's in store, whether light really peers so far through.
God, it must be so hard for him to see, trying to think like a normal human being, when his own essence phases in and out of matter as he tries seeking its inner truths while conversation only hampers. what a state for one so out of place, strung into pieces while life around lives and breathes its own musings and meanings. so thus, the wanderer keeps to his dream, tending its crops like a farmer with only his hands to make them into permanence gleam, hopefully reminded of his Rabb regardless how dark the horizon might seem.
3.02.2017
- in the name of Allah -
Palatial Intents
2/26 - 3/2
With the moon on my right, and the sun on my left,
Tomorrow is the canvas, beholding a time for the soul to rest.
For the moon, a palace of ivory and gold, nestled amidst clouds, reaching high beyond the known;
Bedecked by rubies and reds, adorning the stairs and lining the curtains of beds,
Tiles and walls, interlacing patterns of shades alternating while seeming random,
What a marvel, this abode, to be for the one who made their heart a home.
For the sun, a palace of lapis and pearl, surrounded by gardens lush, echoing sounds of trust;
Emblazoned in sapphires and blues, gracing the sofas and paintings of hallways with due,
Carpets and ceilings, amplifying the light from just portions of places to everywhere reaching,
Such a glorious estate, for the one who met not once but twice with fate.
May Allah carry these inklings from the very bottom of their well,
Upward to unimaginable heights, so they may dry and become:
The very tip of the heavenly iceberg, in Firdaus itself.
Ameen
Palatial Intents
2/26 - 3/2
With the moon on my right, and the sun on my left,
Tomorrow is the canvas, beholding a time for the soul to rest.
For the moon, a palace of ivory and gold, nestled amidst clouds, reaching high beyond the known;
Bedecked by rubies and reds, adorning the stairs and lining the curtains of beds,
Tiles and walls, interlacing patterns of shades alternating while seeming random,
What a marvel, this abode, to be for the one who made their heart a home.
For the sun, a palace of lapis and pearl, surrounded by gardens lush, echoing sounds of trust;
Emblazoned in sapphires and blues, gracing the sofas and paintings of hallways with due,
Carpets and ceilings, amplifying the light from just portions of places to everywhere reaching,
Such a glorious estate, for the one who met not once but twice with fate.
May Allah carry these inklings from the very bottom of their well,
Upward to unimaginable heights, so they may dry and become:
The very tip of the heavenly iceberg, in Firdaus itself.
Ameen
2.28.2017
- in the name of Allah -
why do I keep writing?
because there's only so far these eyes can see, only so much the chest can hold, before either I'm blinded, or the breast must needs explode. pain is the air I've breathed, hope is the exhalation, without filters or masks, taking in deeply to help the gases' exchanging, absorbing the harm while trying to give off only what lasts.
there were a couple souls I met, souls I couldn't keep, souls whose inner light I couldn't appreciate well enough in time then decreed. so I found with Allah's help a road, to see again those rays, to funnel into one place all one's wishes, that one day we might share hearts as they yearn to exist.
why do I keep writing?
because there's only so far these eyes can see, only so much the chest can hold, before either I'm blinded, or the breast must needs explode. pain is the air I've breathed, hope is the exhalation, without filters or masks, taking in deeply to help the gases' exchanging, absorbing the harm while trying to give off only what lasts.
there were a couple souls I met, souls I couldn't keep, souls whose inner light I couldn't appreciate well enough in time then decreed. so I found with Allah's help a road, to see again those rays, to funnel into one place all one's wishes, that one day we might share hearts as they yearn to exist.
2.25.2017
- in the name of Allah -
In memory of this day that'll stay with me forever, iA as inspiration to draw on and push forward towards a better akhirah, to find with Allah the best of things I ever sought. The first, exactly one year ago, the second earlier today, both becoming by His grace means of spurring onward and seeking Firdaus before anywhere else.
2/25
Even if I had a thousand hearts, each to split in a thousand parts,
For each and every vein, a knife to slice and blood to drain,
A single mind for all the nerves, a place where all the pains converge;
I'd live for them a thousand lives, to reach a point like this in time,
Where the past at last evolved, into future's rise instead of fall,
Where once I found but loss, all morphed to gain and this life the cost,
Happily paid not only for them found as stars, but to Him Who owns it all.
In memory of this day that'll stay with me forever, iA as inspiration to draw on and push forward towards a better akhirah, to find with Allah the best of things I ever sought. The first, exactly one year ago, the second earlier today, both becoming by His grace means of spurring onward and seeking Firdaus before anywhere else.
2/25
Even if I had a thousand hearts, each to split in a thousand parts,
For each and every vein, a knife to slice and blood to drain,
A single mind for all the nerves, a place where all the pains converge;
I'd live for them a thousand lives, to reach a point like this in time,
Where the past at last evolved, into future's rise instead of fall,
Where once I found but loss, all morphed to gain and this life the cost,
Happily paid not only for them found as stars, but to Him Who owns it all.
2.23.2017
- in the name of Allah -
Now re-learning one of the most important aspects of my former being: istikharah. It's been so long, I have missed it quite a bit. Not surprisingly, it reminds me of a road in the past I chose, to lead my way towards the most precious of abodes. Like most things nowadays though, it just points me forward, towards Allah, towards His blessing, His mercy, the gifts I hope to find with Him. iA will start making istikharah more commonplace in life, I think at its root is something I've been sorely lacking for a very long time: true tawakkul in Allah, finding and holding that peace that comes from understanding human limitation and accepting and beseeching Allah for His help to overcome those frailties and inadequacies. I have had some parts of this equation at one time or another, but never quite all in one piece, never quite with the eye on the future I now have. ~ Tomorrow, my goal, today, my wish, always, my hope; iA.
Now re-learning one of the most important aspects of my former being: istikharah. It's been so long, I have missed it quite a bit. Not surprisingly, it reminds me of a road in the past I chose, to lead my way towards the most precious of abodes. Like most things nowadays though, it just points me forward, towards Allah, towards His blessing, His mercy, the gifts I hope to find with Him. iA will start making istikharah more commonplace in life, I think at its root is something I've been sorely lacking for a very long time: true tawakkul in Allah, finding and holding that peace that comes from understanding human limitation and accepting and beseeching Allah for His help to overcome those frailties and inadequacies. I have had some parts of this equation at one time or another, but never quite all in one piece, never quite with the eye on the future I now have. ~ Tomorrow, my goal, today, my wish, always, my hope; iA.
2.18.2017
- in the name of Allah -
mashaAllah what a time the past year has been. Two of the most formative people I've ever known, ones I never thought I would ever hear from again but instead I do. The first was immensely significant, being a means of solidifying and creating the goal in akhirah. Didn't think anything could add to that (obviously no topping it). But recently the second did, and it's like...I am me again. I know me, again. It's a full-circle happening, only it was beyond anything I might expect, especially while in dunya. Two situations, both ones at the root of my own Breaking, and after all this time, they overlap together like two bandages tying up the singed edges of the soul.
All I can say is 'subhanaAllah'. That's what it is to be living. Allah knows while people don't, plans our futures even while all we humans can see is the tidbits right in front of us. As if I didn't have enough reason to be grateful to be where I am after all that's happened, this icing on the cake and it's like there's no longer any lost disconnect between me of today and me of yesterday. Funny enough, all of this while I'm focused on tomorrow.
No matter how much pain one finds in life, no matter the physical or emotional breaks that happen, if the single constant of Allah remains then every thing else becomes gravy. People will still falter, I will still falter, being human after all, but the key is to spring right back up, keep the eyes on the skies and always looking upward, wanting and hoping and working for something better with Him.
mashaAllah what a time the past year has been. Two of the most formative people I've ever known, ones I never thought I would ever hear from again but instead I do. The first was immensely significant, being a means of solidifying and creating the goal in akhirah. Didn't think anything could add to that (obviously no topping it). But recently the second did, and it's like...I am me again. I know me, again. It's a full-circle happening, only it was beyond anything I might expect, especially while in dunya. Two situations, both ones at the root of my own Breaking, and after all this time, they overlap together like two bandages tying up the singed edges of the soul.
All I can say is 'subhanaAllah'. That's what it is to be living. Allah knows while people don't, plans our futures even while all we humans can see is the tidbits right in front of us. As if I didn't have enough reason to be grateful to be where I am after all that's happened, this icing on the cake and it's like there's no longer any lost disconnect between me of today and me of yesterday. Funny enough, all of this while I'm focused on tomorrow.
No matter how much pain one finds in life, no matter the physical or emotional breaks that happen, if the single constant of Allah remains then every thing else becomes gravy. People will still falter, I will still falter, being human after all, but the key is to spring right back up, keep the eyes on the skies and always looking upward, wanting and hoping and working for something better with Him.
2.14.2017
- in the name of Allah -
k
i can't quite remove from my words any trace of pain or tinge of sadness, lived long enough to remember the good and bad no matter what the current status. though some precious moments are found where I can see in-tomorrow, not the in-between of getting there but the finale of a path that overcame the loss and persevered from sorrow.
my life, all of it, is just a series of events trying to prove I am what mirrors reveal, going past the surface and holding on as long as i can to the beauty of ideals. alhamdulillah disillusion no longer stalks my steps but newer more evolved challenges emerge, needing to forge from the essence of disintegrating matters molecules of a single pattern so dreams and us converge.
let me say for once and ever, your threads and mine are interwoven, when I picture delight, it's never far from a place where your hands are mine holding. this road is a star chart with you as a guiding constellation, shining whenever needed to abate the darkness and offering a place for the heart to roam in.
k
i can't quite remove from my words any trace of pain or tinge of sadness, lived long enough to remember the good and bad no matter what the current status. though some precious moments are found where I can see in-tomorrow, not the in-between of getting there but the finale of a path that overcame the loss and persevered from sorrow.
my life, all of it, is just a series of events trying to prove I am what mirrors reveal, going past the surface and holding on as long as i can to the beauty of ideals. alhamdulillah disillusion no longer stalks my steps but newer more evolved challenges emerge, needing to forge from the essence of disintegrating matters molecules of a single pattern so dreams and us converge.
let me say for once and ever, your threads and mine are interwoven, when I picture delight, it's never far from a place where your hands are mine holding. this road is a star chart with you as a guiding constellation, shining whenever needed to abate the darkness and offering a place for the heart to roam in.
2.11.2017
- in the name of Allah -
Not quite sure how I came across this, but the title fit.
From one of the video's comments:
"A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world." Oscar Wilde
Every stray lives with the single desire to be loved. Every soul searches this world for a place to rest their heart’s weary wandering, before being called home. We are all born with the same inner haunting question of the meaning of this life. Each of us has their own correct answer. Will you be the hammer, or the nail? In this physical existence we are flawed, and given to the dark frailties of this world. We are given to, and consumed by the dark whims of rage, anger, ego, and greed. As beings, we are not perfect, but love is, and always will be. Love is the one miracle Heaven gives us every opportunity to perform. The miracle comes in that it rewards all involved, and the effects echo for all eternity. When real romantics fall in love, believing in love, they never think about surviving the fall, nor would they want to.
A few notes:
Not quite sure how I came across this, but the title fit.
From one of the video's comments:
"A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world." Oscar Wilde
Every stray lives with the single desire to be loved. Every soul searches this world for a place to rest their heart’s weary wandering, before being called home. We are all born with the same inner haunting question of the meaning of this life. Each of us has their own correct answer. Will you be the hammer, or the nail? In this physical existence we are flawed, and given to the dark frailties of this world. We are given to, and consumed by the dark whims of rage, anger, ego, and greed. As beings, we are not perfect, but love is, and always will be. Love is the one miracle Heaven gives us every opportunity to perform. The miracle comes in that it rewards all involved, and the effects echo for all eternity. When real romantics fall in love, believing in love, they never think about surviving the fall, nor would they want to.
A few notes:
- I wasn't a dreamer until after I knew k, and even though the road since has been rocky I wouldn't ever go back, even if I could.
- Aside from a bit of fluff, the latter part of the comment holds true far as I can tell. I never thought about surviving the fall, never really wanted to. 'Love' always seemed to me as something to make whole, pure in its essence, above the confines of typical human emotions. Can't help but feel a bit foolish at the thought it being so intrinsic, but I've long since embraced the jest at the core of any idealist.
- If there is a thing to redeem the tendencies one has to fall and want to keep falling, call it the snowball-boulder reaction, then the remedy lies in hope + love. Like twin oars on a boat, keep the ship going forward when all it wants to do is stay idle or sink. One can't survive one's own sins without hoping something good from Allah, and, for me at least, can't come back to a thing without love driving towards it.
- in the name of Allah -
edge of oblivion
the cliff, this rail, my strength, it pales,
to fall, like flying, in reverse, gravity, the hearse.
life, the menace, a plague, oblivion, its cure swift.
the wind, my need, grounded, all it bleeds.
streaks of red, amidst a heart, cannot beat, lifeless.
envision dream, to life, blinded, apart at seam.
mortals fail, earth crumbles, ash to ash, my tale:
thought, too grand, action so base, impossible to plan,
past hope dispersed, drifting, far from place.
apathy, crudest of brushes, unadorned, a bludgeon,
leak away senses, shallow, for precision, a mallet.
scales, askew, matches lit, a flame, bonfire, void is due.
edge of oblivion
the cliff, this rail, my strength, it pales,
to fall, like flying, in reverse, gravity, the hearse.
life, the menace, a plague, oblivion, its cure swift.
the wind, my need, grounded, all it bleeds.
streaks of red, amidst a heart, cannot beat, lifeless.
envision dream, to life, blinded, apart at seam.
mortals fail, earth crumbles, ash to ash, my tale:
thought, too grand, action so base, impossible to plan,
past hope dispersed, drifting, far from place.
apathy, crudest of brushes, unadorned, a bludgeon,
leak away senses, shallow, for precision, a mallet.
scales, askew, matches lit, a flame, bonfire, void is due.
2.09.2017
- in the name of Allah -
what is man but a sum of many moments, strung along like pearls on a necklace, just waiting to be broken?
what is life but a series of consequences, a stack of LEGOs comprising the city of imagination, just waiting to be toppled over?
what is the soul but a mosaic of pure glass, given color by memories as paint on a canvas, just waiting until it drops and pieces scatter like ash?
-
A planet with ideals at its core, by molten layers surrounded, trying to keep safe from a thing so obscure, yet I fervently wish I could escape my axis, collide with moons or a comet by gravity unbounded, disregard the physics of collision and let the drift of cosmic dusts carry meaning away into insignificance. so light is death, like a feather without wind to harry its course so its drifts free without chains or sources of things that bleed. duty and necessity grapple thoughts of flight even as in throats of the soul they're strangled, can't quite reach reality's fruition as its bound by law and destiny's preamble. I fear I need a mirror but I can't seem to justify finding another soul to fill this prescription, not without leaving the galaxy my past was so comfortable living in, as a climber of canyons stuck now wandering the bottom of chasms that stay open long beyond their expiration, a fish I flounder in vacuum without water or air to condense and bring life to bear. oh souls of resonance seeking, break the barriers in between our meeting, throw the hooks and lures with intentions pure, so Allah might let us find lakes to fill the need of hearts still beating.
what is man but a sum of many moments, strung along like pearls on a necklace, just waiting to be broken?
what is life but a series of consequences, a stack of LEGOs comprising the city of imagination, just waiting to be toppled over?
what is the soul but a mosaic of pure glass, given color by memories as paint on a canvas, just waiting until it drops and pieces scatter like ash?
-
A planet with ideals at its core, by molten layers surrounded, trying to keep safe from a thing so obscure, yet I fervently wish I could escape my axis, collide with moons or a comet by gravity unbounded, disregard the physics of collision and let the drift of cosmic dusts carry meaning away into insignificance. so light is death, like a feather without wind to harry its course so its drifts free without chains or sources of things that bleed. duty and necessity grapple thoughts of flight even as in throats of the soul they're strangled, can't quite reach reality's fruition as its bound by law and destiny's preamble. I fear I need a mirror but I can't seem to justify finding another soul to fill this prescription, not without leaving the galaxy my past was so comfortable living in, as a climber of canyons stuck now wandering the bottom of chasms that stay open long beyond their expiration, a fish I flounder in vacuum without water or air to condense and bring life to bear. oh souls of resonance seeking, break the barriers in between our meeting, throw the hooks and lures with intentions pure, so Allah might let us find lakes to fill the need of hearts still beating.
2.08.2017
- in the name of Allah -
seeking always the things which last, which carry the most meaning, life just has a way of constantly draining a person, repeatedly demonstrating those things which wither away and lose any meaning. trying to keep a lid on it, keep my self from losing its pieces like it did before, as apathy and lack of resonance revisit like embedded plotlines of a record that keeps on playing.
for all I love of ideals and beauty, sometimes, often times, I find in myself their greatest lacking. this on top of what life shows these days, and the weight is truly immense. how to keep the vision i have ticking, when my own shortcoming makes my very next step stutter? how can such a being dare to look beyond, months years decades, past even his own death to the hope of a better end?
as always, in need of duas aplenty, guidance to dim the darkness of these moments I can't easily shake, strength to keep striving for akhirah no matter what shifting winds I face.
seeking always the things which last, which carry the most meaning, life just has a way of constantly draining a person, repeatedly demonstrating those things which wither away and lose any meaning. trying to keep a lid on it, keep my self from losing its pieces like it did before, as apathy and lack of resonance revisit like embedded plotlines of a record that keeps on playing.
for all I love of ideals and beauty, sometimes, often times, I find in myself their greatest lacking. this on top of what life shows these days, and the weight is truly immense. how to keep the vision i have ticking, when my own shortcoming makes my very next step stutter? how can such a being dare to look beyond, months years decades, past even his own death to the hope of a better end?
as always, in need of duas aplenty, guidance to dim the darkness of these moments I can't easily shake, strength to keep striving for akhirah no matter what shifting winds I face.
2.07.2017
- in the name of Allah -
mA, just finished the 14th and final book in WoT. What a story.
Like ASoIaF, I began this series because of what an old friend suggested, and just as glad I did, if not more. Alhamdulillah for being able to find simple joys in things, in understanding bonds that transcend typical human expectation and reach something really, really bright. Still a few titles yet I have to read, though the hope is there a fellow traveller drops by now and again with more suggestions of brilliant writing to keep the mind sharp and heart looking forward.
mA, just finished the 14th and final book in WoT. What a story.
Like ASoIaF, I began this series because of what an old friend suggested, and just as glad I did, if not more. Alhamdulillah for being able to find simple joys in things, in understanding bonds that transcend typical human expectation and reach something really, really bright. Still a few titles yet I have to read, though the hope is there a fellow traveller drops by now and again with more suggestions of brilliant writing to keep the mind sharp and heart looking forward.
1.25.2017
- in the name of Allah -
sometimes fingers need to be freed to do as they please, triggering words from thoughts held too deep inside one's self to see. looking often for fresh air to breathe, not often finding time to just stand and observe nature in its own scene, these are days that just mesh together silently, bound by times of disasters that fall like lightning strikes on once-safe pastures. it might be I too count among the sheep, but colorblind to tell what the difference in shades might mean, so I wander from the flock seeking freedom from being slaughtered for wool or meat, thinking I've found sanctuary but in truth another stray for the wolves to pick apart with their sharpest of teeth.
time, that old friend, it comes for me again, from old recesses once treaded, beneath the oceans in caverns where purpose once crumbled and lay compressed, but time now knows that it too will give in, like any beginning in life has its pair with an ending.
sometimes fingers need to be freed to do as they please, triggering words from thoughts held too deep inside one's self to see. looking often for fresh air to breathe, not often finding time to just stand and observe nature in its own scene, these are days that just mesh together silently, bound by times of disasters that fall like lightning strikes on once-safe pastures. it might be I too count among the sheep, but colorblind to tell what the difference in shades might mean, so I wander from the flock seeking freedom from being slaughtered for wool or meat, thinking I've found sanctuary but in truth another stray for the wolves to pick apart with their sharpest of teeth.
time, that old friend, it comes for me again, from old recesses once treaded, beneath the oceans in caverns where purpose once crumbled and lay compressed, but time now knows that it too will give in, like any beginning in life has its pair with an ending.
1.19.2017
- in the name of Allah -
I wish some ripples could my self reach, across any ocean or river or creek, so even if outside was sun to shine inside there would be rain to make puddles with reflections of others for me to find. All for the moment, static impressions of lives being lived with various efforts, towards some vague but assumable purposes and endings; my lone regret in this midst of busy bees, to be a comet just a shade off visible course, so in their skies I may be seen, but in mine they're just slightly out of phase and misaligned. I know some orbits take the entirety of a lifetime, coming back around to meet again heavenly companions in stride, I know some risks, even look forward to the epilogue, but by Allah, I hope my own journey doesn't take quite so long.
~<@
I wish some ripples could my self reach, across any ocean or river or creek, so even if outside was sun to shine inside there would be rain to make puddles with reflections of others for me to find. All for the moment, static impressions of lives being lived with various efforts, towards some vague but assumable purposes and endings; my lone regret in this midst of busy bees, to be a comet just a shade off visible course, so in their skies I may be seen, but in mine they're just slightly out of phase and misaligned. I know some orbits take the entirety of a lifetime, coming back around to meet again heavenly companions in stride, I know some risks, even look forward to the epilogue, but by Allah, I hope my own journey doesn't take quite so long.
~<@
1.15.2017
- in the name of Allah -
SubhanaAllah. Didn't quite expect to know a place like this. Then again, a year and half ago, didn't expect I'd ever marry either. Now thoughts and consequences drift to not being married any longer. I wish I could say there was some emotion worth having in regards to the person involved, but there isn't. What truly digs at me though, what I fear the most, is the possibility that I may be leaving behind something Allah wanted good for me in. The only issue is, by every mortal lens I have, by every human judgment I can make, there is precious little truly good there in the relationship that is worth trying to hang on to.
Suffice it to say, the current eventuality is what the person needed I didn't have, the bipolarity and extreme reactions to so many things, such narcissism to make a person cringe, erased any potential that I could have found emotionally, leaving just an utter and wholly repulsive taste in the mouth. Whatever good one hand might make, the other hand would destroy.
The decisive step is for me to make Istikharah. Innately wary and reluctant to do so for a long time, but in my evolving, I figure I had better brave that too iA: the unknowable, trying to move forward with only human knowledge at hand, uncertain if there was a path worthy of being taken there that would lead me closer to Allah ultimately. iA I'll find one who wants to seek Him too.
SubhanaAllah. Didn't quite expect to know a place like this. Then again, a year and half ago, didn't expect I'd ever marry either. Now thoughts and consequences drift to not being married any longer. I wish I could say there was some emotion worth having in regards to the person involved, but there isn't. What truly digs at me though, what I fear the most, is the possibility that I may be leaving behind something Allah wanted good for me in. The only issue is, by every mortal lens I have, by every human judgment I can make, there is precious little truly good there in the relationship that is worth trying to hang on to.
Suffice it to say, the current eventuality is what the person needed I didn't have, the bipolarity and extreme reactions to so many things, such narcissism to make a person cringe, erased any potential that I could have found emotionally, leaving just an utter and wholly repulsive taste in the mouth. Whatever good one hand might make, the other hand would destroy.
The decisive step is for me to make Istikharah. Innately wary and reluctant to do so for a long time, but in my evolving, I figure I had better brave that too iA: the unknowable, trying to move forward with only human knowledge at hand, uncertain if there was a path worthy of being taken there that would lead me closer to Allah ultimately. iA I'll find one who wants to seek Him too.
1.08.2017
- in the name of Allah -
some scars, they heal and fade; some scars, they throb and enrage; some scars, they seethe and swell; and then, some scars, they soothe and bring back to health. here's to recollections and projections of pasts and futures meshing into the present, merging threads of consequence and choice into one indivisible line of evidence: pointing forward and marking the road, aiding in moments where I blink, and light by nature into darkness folds, so even in mistakes, by the grace of Allah, I return my gaze back toward Him and the ultimate of goals.
this blog, this little space I carve onto walls with a pen like a knife in a cave, is my little Ark, a vessel to carry those thoughts that from elsewhere flee and come to find respite like a lamp needs oil to spark. the soul is a fickle thing, it oft waxes and wanes without pause or precedence or time to think, but such is this niche that varying strands of light coalesce in its cradle, growing from mere infirmity to fable, a story still being written to change 'couldn't' into 'able' - inshaAllah and may He make it always so, ameen.
some scars, they heal and fade; some scars, they throb and enrage; some scars, they seethe and swell; and then, some scars, they soothe and bring back to health. here's to recollections and projections of pasts and futures meshing into the present, merging threads of consequence and choice into one indivisible line of evidence: pointing forward and marking the road, aiding in moments where I blink, and light by nature into darkness folds, so even in mistakes, by the grace of Allah, I return my gaze back toward Him and the ultimate of goals.
this blog, this little space I carve onto walls with a pen like a knife in a cave, is my little Ark, a vessel to carry those thoughts that from elsewhere flee and come to find respite like a lamp needs oil to spark. the soul is a fickle thing, it oft waxes and wanes without pause or precedence or time to think, but such is this niche that varying strands of light coalesce in its cradle, growing from mere infirmity to fable, a story still being written to change 'couldn't' into 'able' - inshaAllah and may He make it always so, ameen.