- in the name of Allah -


It seems like I am fated to never get close to some people. Sure, the reasons for mismatch are there, different planets, different species, different dimensions, the list goes on. It doesn't stop the searching however, that goes on endlessly, subconsciously, without effort yet with the whole of one's soul behind it. I continue my search, without much effort, and no real idea of where exactly to look. There may be answers right under my nose, but I'm too smell-deaf to hear them.

Just what does it mean that another person is made for one's self? Where does that compatibility erupt from? Why do such notions continuously bubble forth from the essence of the soul, in ways I can't comprehend, but can only assert that it is true, and that it must exist. Love may be one of the most damned emotions ever given to mankind. I can't find it, only feel its need like a snake sneaking underneath my being. It's like needing clothes in a hurricane but only armed with an umbrella. Or maybe having a boxed car frame without an engine. Or maybe a plane flying in circles with only one wing.

Where art thou, oh separate wing of mine?

- in the name of Allah -


I saw this browsing through BBC, and I just couldn't pass it up..


http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7422900.stm

"...Reports said King Gyanendra and Queen Komal were seen driving out of the royal palace on Tuesday afternoon, but it was not clear where they were going or for how long they would be gone."

LOL, with a hindu, reincarnated Vishnu, no less!

- in the name of Allah -



sometimes the role we take is more important than the role we desired to play. it may not be that our own interests are served because of it, but surely, we gain more from it and feel better about it once something else is given preference to our own nafs. it's weird, that in a heart never preferential to malice or envy, it feels even less of these emotions than possible.

I can really only be there, as a "beloved spiritual nudger", "rock", "holyman", or whatever else is needed from me at the time. how utterly strange this part of my character is to me. a friend once described me as being the type of person that could be anything that another might need from me, whether it be space, an ear, a wall, an outlet, etc.

perhaps my role in this world isn't one who will find his 'one', but help many others find their way. could that be balanced, fair? in my opinion, perfectly so.

- in the name of Allah -


May Allah curse the ineptitude of inept messaging programs. What good is technology if it can't make a bridge when you ask it to?

- in the name of Allah -


It's official: I have lost the power cord to this laptop. I am now writing and browsing on borrowed time. The battery icon tells me I have a few hours left, but not only is that not enough to last me, it probably isn't true either. My trillian is acting up and refusing to connect half the time, limiting my access to MSN, AIM, and other services which connect me to the outside world. Granted, I can open my front door and walk outside and I'd not have to worry about the outside world being too far. That would be dandy, if it wasn't for the fact that the outside world I'm looking for happens to be thousands of miles away; it might take a few years' walking/swimming distance. The last few posts I've made, don't seem to be so relevant presently. The stimulus for those outbursts of thought, seems now trapped in a different dimension, a different time. Imagine, a lifetime lived in two days' span. Possible? I might say so, if I can correctly interpret myself in these past few days. It wasn't that the light rain that fell wasn't enough to wash away the dust and debris, but the ground was so thirsty, it soaked it all up as soon as it fell. Who'da thunk it?

What's somewhat ironic is that as I read these lines I'm writing I notice an influence and essence that isn't my own, a style that I don't usually use. A kind of story-like narrative, sporadically sarcastic, noted for undertone and metaphor. My writing, my own personal writing, is direct and self-explanatory; to understand this, one would need a background manual. The notion is insidious, but just so subtly dramatic. Whatever. I have composed a few lines for the 27th, but I think I will have more, much more written by then. Who knows, maybe I'll finally be able write a masterpiece that I haven't felt the need to do for quite some time.

I think I'll go look for that power cord again.

- in the name of Allah -


for the first time in a long time, I am posting on consecutive days. interesting, the forces that compel me here, but relatively unremarkable in the grand scheme of things. I'm still fully digesting the events of yesterday, just what it means, just how I relate, just how far to invite a (former?) stranger inside a place where I allow few to go. the first step is already in motion. a blog that I've kept since one my more fateful years that has only a handful of posts but no viewers besides myself is now potentially open. why? I imagine it is for the purposes of understanding, and the completion thereof. suffice it to say, barring any unforeseen dramatic exits, this singularity will know much of me almost willingly or otherwise. lol

no, this is not a mirage of love, or some vain concoction like it. if I could try explaining this phenomenon, it would have to be an amalgamation of minds - the first time I can ever say it has happened with someone else. I need not say that I have been searching for some intellectual equal, male or female, from amongst mankind as long as I can remember. one who can write and understand, along somewhat parallel wavelengths, where I seek growth and how life has progressed to the present moment. empathy among people with a real ability to think and decide, is truly rare. one of the only few questions I am left with, is how long would Allah choose to have me taste this sweetness before either it becomes as one with me, or disappears like the mirage of night it first appeared to be. no, it isn't that I question Allah. I've come too far, understood too much, to allow such foolishness fit for lesser minds to hamper my self actualization. some things in life are decreed, howsoever much we may wish them a certain way. while it may not make me happy to know such times, my acceptance of them and knowledge of their necessity as a trial in this life, makes it mostly gravy. still, I am wondering, at this time of early morning, whether I will find this equal again, whether our words will meet as raindrops in a spreading drought or as snow shards left in the upper reaches of atmosphere: will it melt and reform into one, or be blown by gusts of fate to directions unknown? it's obvious I haven't thought this deeply in a long time. for simple enough a reason: I haven't had a person with which to do so. at least, reflections suit me, so they cannot lure me to a house of horror but only a house of possibility.

- will be adding something about a mirage soon -

- in the name of Allah -


So I am back here again. Why? I'm not entirely sure. It isn't the innate pull of self revelation, nor the desire to lift some hefty burden off of my chest. It isn't even as strong as the typical motivations I have to write something.

I write because I marvel at the hand of fate and its subtle movement. How some paths we plot and plan ourselves, yet they fade to nothing, and some paths of which we carry no inkling, without warning emerge to the surface of our souls from the very depths of our being. I hold no illusions of grandeur, no delusion of sanctity, no farce of fair fate; the only feeling I carry is this awareness that a thing, though it may be of limited purpose and present scope, could impart every single notion I've ever valued outside of deen and the basic premise of my existence, all in one fell swoop.

It could be that a reflection of mine, similar in nature but varying in substance, is finally shone from a corner of the world and a part of life that I hadn't quite expected from. How do I react? What will I do? Will I bury the shovels of my past along side the graves of fallen dreams? Will I create a facade to manage a crisis I don't see but in paranoia might expect anyway?

Simple. I live as if little has changed, but for a glimmer of something greater is given its due. There it is, there it might live, and still there it may die, but I will remember the day it shone bright, without needing to wonder if or why. My past has stayed buried, and as little as I care for it, it plans on staying that way. Facades never were quite my thing, so I'll leave them be and carry on while keeping faith grounded in believing.


from the nearest star..

..fell a dream, into my lap
barely moving, it needed CPR, stat
paddle 1 paddle 2, shock on three
count the lights, hands off, electricity
coursed through veins, depolarizing
a dream in infancy, barely surviving,
it just might make it, begin intubation
blindly, no need for light, I see it clearly.

a patient who fell out of his shuttle,
right before it landed on the moon,
escaped the smoldering rubble,
and not a second too soon,
flames and smoke rose and engulfed,
a lost vantage point blazing the rough,
no real matter, blueprints were in hand,
now to rebuild, across the oceans, across the lands.

- in the name of Allah -


I don't think this blog really serves any purpose for me anymore. My evolution has come so far, realized so much, I wonder if I will ever find again the need to write and give voice to my thoughts.

It's like a leaf blown off a tree into the wind, only to scatter into a million pieces and be reformed in another land, simply to make fertile the land that would grow another tree.

My poetic touch is being lost. I can't quite explain it. Possibly the pragmatism that's become entrenched in my being from putting deen more fully into life has something to do with it. Words...don't mean as much as they once did. They may be able to cut more easily than knives, but they weigh as much as feathers.

It also dawns on me that I need to find someone. Who, I don't know, why, I'm only half sure of, and how, well that remains the most mysterious part. Let the puzzle begin..

- in the name of Allah -


Crap. I thought I could manage to post here at least once every month ever since I began this blog, but I guess not. Clinicals started this semester, so that pretty much explains it. Just not enough time, it seems, to do or say all the things either felt or needed to be said.

The world keeps turning, the past gives a bit more insight day by day, and still the path ahead becomes clearer. We weren't made to live this life like kings or queens, maybe princes or princesses if we're fortunate and grateful. So much of what I write, if anything, has words like "seems" or "appears"...nothing particularly definitive, but as I become more certain of my own purpose, a slight gleam for a tomorrow evident but not quite past.

- in the name of Allah -


First time back posting in awhile, and I happen to check bbc.com for a (brief) update on world affairs. Not surprising, but intriguing nonetheless.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7188602.stm


That was the top story this Tuesday, the 15th of January. I only needed to read a few paragraphs into it before what I knew from previous developments (see previous blog posts - about 2-3 months ago).


1. "The 900 satellite-guided Joint Direct Attack Munitions being sold to Riyadh are part of a long-awaited US arms package for Gulf Arab allies worth $20bn."

2. "In Washington, Democrats signalled they were unlikely to block the deal, though some in Congress expressed fears that some of the technology being sold could threaten Israel, the BBC's Jonathan Beale in Washington reports."

3. "US state department spokesman Sean McCormack said that both the Saudi and Israeli governments had been consulted and Washington was ensuring Israel retained a "qualitative military edge"."

4. 'Analysts suggest that Congress will back the arms sale because it would bolster the Saudis in the face of Iran. Tehran has been described by House Foreign Affairs Committee chairman Tom Lantos, a Democrat, as a "mortal threat" to the region, should it acquire nuclear weapons."


Nothing but more of the same, a propagation of warfare-inspiring rhetoric and politically-motivated decisions...which leads me to a question: when was the last time someone in our government did something for a reason other than their own political gain? I can't remember...last time I even recall something like that...it was from a movie..

- in the name of Allah -


echoes of tomorrow



how splendid is poetry, when ears hear, mere words transform from the mediocre into sublimity. if I was never called out from the cave of Never Land, would sounds still make their way down the untrod path?

I have no more ghosts, no more skeletons of haunting, no more fables long since past to bother a present of solid beginnings. as well as these, I carry no regrets from the land of youthful innocence, no care for spears of sanity that once labeled my head a pear for the reaping. parables and soliloquies once parried me from the earth to the seas, from the skies to everything underneath, but now all the extraordinary and paranormal is compressed to 1/100th the meaning of the abyssal. purpose is evident, if not self explanatory, I have only to reach outside of me to find a leading lesson clothed in flesh of friend or foe. though few reside near the philosophical, it's refreshing to head down the road rarely traveled to awaken a mind accosted by the inanity of mindless dribble. who knows what cards lay in the hand of tomorrow, I only know that I will fight the seemingly inevitable with everything whether it be happiness or sorrow.

- in the name of Allah -


I have just finished watching "Ruroni Kenshin", an anime from the early-mid 1990's. It amazes me how human beings, during the course of history, seem destined to repeat their mistakes. History makes fools of most only to serve as lessons for those who are to inherit the title of 'wise'. But how do we know if we are the fools or the wise?

The first difference is knowing truth. Each and every soul tastes its own during the time it is alive. So how a further distinction made? How is one truth found to be greater or lesser than another? The only truth worth its weight in life (and death, but that comes later), is that this life is transient. It glimmers like gold but all it turns out to be is a fake gold tooth: pretty on the outside, but truly rotten at its core. As such, the concept of entropy should be self evident and self explanatory. The question is, with whom will you side? Will you work to decrease the amount of chaos in your universe? Will you work to increase the chaos of your universe? Or will you choose to sit by and watch it spiral, taking no side and naming no name?

Why is it that in all of major religions, the Devil opposes God? What element of the Devil's existence made such a thing possible? Inevitable? The easy answer is choice. We are told the Devil chose to disobey the command of God. How do the concepts of Good and Evil develop from this? Did Evil come from a place of inherent, pre-existing Evil? Or was it born originally of Good? The widely known notion is that it was born of good. If Evil must come from something Good, then can we determine what is Right and what is Wrong? Are the lines so easily drawn that judgment is the easiest thing for men to do? The lines are blurred, though some remains evident. Because what is Evil was born from something that originally was supposed to Good, it can never equal what it was before.

- in the name of Allah -


It seems like it's time for me to post here again. The most recent stimulus is a recent, and infrequent outing with close friends. The behavior patters I've observed, in myself and in them, shows me a divergent path of growth: we are going in different directions. Some people choose to hold on to what is familiar to them and discard that which they find foreign or indigestable. It seems like this is happening now. There was a time when my thoughts and actions would almost linearly and proportionally coincide with those of my close friends. Over these past few years, as we develop in different ways and in different environments, some with more people and some with fewer people, this divergent pattern is becoming more and more pronounced. How can this correlation be detected? How do I know that it is based in fact rather than imagination? It is because my tendencies to be somewhat distant and aloof and separate from them now manifests itself in they being closer to themselves. Quite an observation, but it poses a bit of a predicament for me: of what value is social contact if it does increase one in closeness to someone else? I do not choose friends lightly nor is it a thing taken lightly, yet it seems the links I have had are tarnishing even though I have not exhibited full periodic isolation as I had tended to do so before. It is ironic, no doubt, that the one thing I needed over the years yet avoided assiduously ends up being the one thing I would like most but as it would turn out, periodicity in being present and absent isn't a thing some friends can understand or accept. So it is then, is it, that we lose bonds that aren't meant to be? Do we search in the seas of disastrous meetings waiting to happen on the lookout for something else worthwhile? Who knows, only time seems to hold the answers these days.

- in the name of Allah -


Troubled times pervade troubled minds, souls out of twine seeking restlessly a newer place of repose and recline. An endless circle of drudgery, compounded by idiocy and served loads of insanity, a cycle oft repeated but sadly a lesson never learned, a reminder never internally seated. Oh, what the hell is with these trivialities, these paradoxical unions? They lend each other only further misery...dreams held hand in hand with grounded and base ambitions seeking power and glory...where ends the stretch of meaningless bends and turns? Balance remains for the ideally minded, a species of insects only crushed as time's footprint is the only by-gone standard. So begs the implication, to seek in anything or nothing or perhaps everything the comfort and solace that this world can never bring? Where lies the end in he who seeks not war but is thrust in battle, his soul at wit's end, but at last being the only combatant in sight being torn to shreds and reborn a thing unknown and inevitably hailed as heretic and disowned? I am not lost, I am confounded, the world is made of bricks easily built but easily grounded, so consequently my imaginings of fortitude brought forth in solitude never reach the ever wandering multitude. Nomad, the title never wavers, searching and searching eternally, but only finding crooks and capers. Look past the external, see the in-division, that one is one, matter is whimsical, but what is with these humans who sell their lives to meaningless drives? They become only dribble yet imagine themselves kings and rulers over lands and people incalculable. It's a mirage, intended to fool, intended to hamper, intended to fill with air and send truth to scamper. Refuge and sanctuary, these words seem impossible in this darkened light where only rays filtered by small minds and smaller hearts break apart potential with 'words of wisdom' shrouded in conflict immemorial.

- in the name of Allah -


Imagine that, the first post of the month coming with just about a week left. Interesting, that is.

just a little bit of riddle, just a little bit of prison, the flesh is bound to earth even when there's nothing in and of itself to keep hold from within, while the soul wanders from acre to acre clamoring for peace but finding only trees in hurricane winds. there are so few shelters, few people or places worth needing, the decay from greed seeping into grounds poisoning wells of lineage to make it all digestible seeming. to recoil and retract while blessings rain down on this desert of frowns, a luck only I seem to sully being unable to re-phrase the mundane into something supernaturally intriguing. the divide only gets more markedly defined, disconnects at the quantum level, pulls and pushes become ineffective means that only serve to further reasons for rebuttal. holding on to ropes used to be a specialty, but now it's feared that rope is fate, twisted and curled, a grave invitation to a mirage of serenity..

- in the name of Allah -



Just having come back from Umrah, I am reminded of a few things. First, one never knows how much something is missed until it's no longer there. Second, the things we take for granted are often some of the things most worth thinking about. Third, spirituality in life is centered around finding a concrete middle path, not necessarily a high/low curve. Fourth, one's friends are oftentimes the bricks by which we construct the outline of living; that is, not in defining life but making inroads into progressing towards a better state. Fifth, and perhaps most importantly, Islam has no classes, modes, no extreme/moderate/liberal classifications: it is whole, complete, and free of error; only the preferences and desires of people lead them to one end or the other, though the best path will always be the middle.

I missed being in the States. Can you imagine that? I couldn't, until I left here and went to a 'developing' country overseas. Simply put, the believers living in America are blessed, and tried by those blessings in the same token. Remember the favors Allah has bestowed upon you!..before there should come a time where you remember what it's like to live without a home, or without a family, or without a dependable means of sustenance. The ills of this society are what we must change: it is not that by leaving the land in which we were born (or led to..I speak only to the ~18-24 generation) that we will find peace, but it is by trying to perfect the land we are living that we can be satisfied, insomuch as it is possible knowing our own weaknesses and shortcomings. It is clear enough that of what Allah has prohibited for mankind, we have to find ways to bring that light of understanding to the places where we live. Why? Because if we cannot find our true form here, our true purpose here first, then we will not find it anywhere else. It follows that before we seek to correct the ills of the society at large, the shortcomings of our own selves need first be addressed, again, insomuch as humanly possible. We cannot advise against usury, while bearing usury-bearing bank accounts. We cannot advise against the proliferation of indecency while immersing our selves and our families in such a state. We cannot advise a people to do good, while our own examples betray our advice. The self is, and always has been, the primarily necessitated focus that every conscientious individual must bear, as a burden meant not to bring us down, but to bring the moral and spiritual state of this country higher.

- in the name of Allah -



After the events of the past few days, I wonder: what is the purpose of pain in life? Is it in fact the means by which weakness leaves the body? Is it the defining characteristic of each individual's life, their attitude towards it? My molar was removed a few days ago, and in the 4 hours following it, before taking any medication, I experienced such a pain as one I have never recollected having before. It's intensity led me to ponder over a number of things. First was the 'worth' of life under such duress; could it, should it be possible, tolerable? Interestingly, the second question led me to the opposite direction: how life is made more worthwhile through the pain that is endured (as patiently as possible that is). If the purpose of pain is to make us stronger, why is it that so many seek to avoid it at all costs? Is this avoidance of pain in itself a weakness? It could be said that this is a product of the times, of the industrial age, where manual labor loses its respect. Concurrently, work that maximizes return for minimal effort is granted an ever higher place in society. Trends such as these are the beginning blocks of the normalization of failure, that start the trickling effect that compounds decadence and ignorance, making the melting pot no longer a melting pot, but a vent of volcanic steam.

- in the name of Allah -



you can't vanquish the vilified, for their eyes have already been marked closed as the curtains rise, so even though light shines, the rest of day for them is as truth becoming lies. teleport and apparate, jump the skies that planes have navigated, just find a wormhole where time isn't a crushing darkness of the necessitated. chained and bound even though the mouth is open there is no sound, only waves of empathy lost in translation as runes of mystics blurred by speech and linguistic irregularity. caves and pyramids hold the buried treasures, but without explorers the knowledge is as good as nonexistent, just another repercussion of carelessness gone irrevocably rampant. seize the blades before the sieves split open, revealing fate's nameless tokens and suddenly everything visualized becomes lost to the seasons. fill the empty basins with air, but still the pensieve's mist is more substantial so in effect what your putting in isn't really there. like Snape lamented the one part that was his to be played for the world to be saved, I'm reminded that saviors come in many colors and stripes, that even though I want to be a white knight, perchance blue and green may suit me more until falls this curtain of dreams. alas, it's then I can't see myself, my own reflection, not in the mirror of Erised, but that of Hturt, for the wavelengths might be abrogated, stuck in sub-warp speed leaving the image a vision in wonder and question serenaded. flee, flee to the chariot of apathy, take your courtier of courtesy to the shores of antiquity. my bird hasn't yet arrived, but you shall know when it has, made of flames, it doesn't burn but lights the path, awaiting the moment I yield the sword while myself a silver-green hue screaming 'there's none but One', in justice giving the hordes their due.

- in the name of Allah -



In case some of you haven't caught some of the recent news, I've posted it here:

1. United States sending more aid to Israel
2. United States selling major arms and equipment to Saudia Arabia and other Arab countries in the region
3. United States and Israel vow to support Abbas

In case the meaning of the above points is lost, I'll clarify. Essentially, the U.S. government will be doing what it has been doing for the past century or so: selling arms to 2+ factions in a tense region, and basically letting the warring parties finish each other off. What's interesting from the second point is that the U.S. government assures Israel that it will have top priority in the region in terms of technology and funding, so no matter whatever is given/sold to its neighbors, it remains ahead in the massacres to come. The third point is interesting because Abbas is probably the least (democratically...oh the irony..) popular puppet "representing" the Palestinian people, so essentially not only is Israel supported light years ahead in terms of finances and weaponry, but the side of the Palestinian people being supported is bound to self destruct and cause more in fighting within the Occupied Territories themselves. So what does all of this mean, together? It's a little veiled effort to, essentially, vaporize one of the cores of the Ummah (Jerusalem / Masjid Al-Aqsa). When did things become so bad, that the government felt it was giving off the imitation of fairness by even bothering to release articles like these, affirming what people on the 'in' already knew? I should add, the arms are aimed at hope that the Arab countries finish off Iran first before themselves and each other. This is no fair fight, there is no care for humanitarian crises, only more planning for massive bloodshed and catastrophic instability in a region that's been externally racked by it for decades. How can we preach justice to one side and turn a blind eye to the obviously contradictory truth? It is a sad day indeed.

- in the name of Allah -



What does it mean when someone you barely thought you knew sticks by you like rubber on glue, and any misspoken word sent their way just bounces on through? It's as if a star fell from the sky, right in my mind, bore an idea that planted a seed that's growing inside. But must always the fruit of light be light? Can it be safe from the darkness, that creeps from day to day in this petty pace, 'till once again falling to night? Alas, it isn't always the intentions' paths that seeds follow, but rather they grow their own colors and shapes to construe or undo parental hopes bled nearly dry. Still, I know this star glows and yet keeps glowing, while my shadows surround it, suffocating it yet it survives in defiance of reason. Akin to the Boy Who Lived, an Idea Who Never Took, but only gave.

- in the name of Allah -



The time has come for some 'other' thoughts, of slightly out-of-the-loop ponderings, that I feel should have their own moment of lucidity. The (hor)crux of these concerns Harry Potter. My first run in with the series was back in 2000, in my 10th grade English class. My teacher was Mrs. McLaughlin, who gave extra credit if we did book reports on them. It was with that purpose I set out in borrowing the first few books from the library. Yet, here we are today, some 7 years later, where the whole journey comes to a close. What does it mean to care? How can we care about something that is complete fiction, that takes conventional theory of values and systematic society, puts it in a blender, and makes something from it in essence entirely different? What appealed to me most, what still appeals to me now about the whole series, is the many lessons to be found, the many recurrent themes, the eventual discernment that has to be made by the main characters between the things they value, and the choices they must make. As Dumbledore said in one of the books, it is about making the choice between what's right and what is easy. This is the knock on the global society at large, but nonetheless, the emphasis is always held on what choices were made, what path was chosen, by a main character who has the makings of any great leader, with an added bit of Western-styled notions of intellectual rebellion: He wants to be free of his burden, his desire for this is great, but never actually overshadows what he knows his true purpose to be. It's almost as if the entire sphere of Western and Eastern thought were combined, the best of both of them taken, and then an ideal frame of a human being carved out from the heap of molten ideas. To what end? Perhaps the answer lies in that, in this day and age more so than any that ever came before, there is a divide that needs unifying, a bridge that needs crossing, and an understanding from two different planes that needs to be understood. Who could have thought that a work of fiction could mean such a thing, but the actions undertaken by those in it would have so much symbolic significance, that they could propel men to care so much? Alas, caring is but the first step in what is known either as reform or redemption. Many people will read it, simply for the joy of reading and nothing more, glazing over some of the most important aspects of humanity that lay right underneath the surface. To take an example, the character of Severus Snape. What role could such a man play in the grand scheme of it all, given his portrayal by the author, by his relationship to the main characters? He was one disliked, despised, reviled, and downcast. Yet, it is about him which is only found near the end of the book, that redeems his past and present just about completely. Through it all, to what point though? He lived, and died, with a purpose, a goal that he defined (or had defined for him), that remained with him until the last breath he took. So what's to be derived? The very same, that there is more to this life than meets the eye (to semi-quote another almost-classic), that there is more to the notions espoused by religion and philosophy, that for perceptive beings, there can be no other end, no other more lofty ambition or recognition that there is, in fact, One God, and we are, in fact, His creation, made only to worship Him alone.

- in the name of Allah -



Hmm, I haven't been here since over a week ago. Seems like so long. Having written a number of things here and there, but not particularly anywhere, I guess I'll post what was written while at Assateague Island:

_______________
It's not the world or the heavens on my shoulders, but only my nafs with its deeds to carry when it's all over. Me, the creation, He, the Eternal, the world my vortex while time waits in the middle. Stars support the sky, giving guidance and sight to those with open minds. Though the clouds might distort the view, Ikhlaas reaches through bones to capture the truth.
_______________


Alas, my worry isn't anymore about what tomorrow brings, but about deeds to be sent forth while the Rope stretches out and thins. my simplicity's become my sanity, keeping cohesion while tornadoes of change whip in and out of season. there's no more escape or relapse, the door's been opened and possibility's hatched, from mere thoughts or ideal forms, to concrete tools and rings of ascendancy in jade adorned. tidal waves sometimes seem like sources of mutilation, but how then are shiny rocks etched into beauty's imitation? it takes a little bit of spark, a little catharsis, and a boatload of understanding to realize the end point of it again and again without repeatedly crash landing. we were made only to worship and remember, to give thanks and persevere, to hold ties and set standards for measure, to stand as one body held by One tether.

- in the name of Allah -


Sometimes I think I'd rather sleep, rather shut my eyes than open them so deep. It isn't often minds ever meet, to see the light during both day and night. I have floundered in a sea of singularity, wading knee deep in trial to fetch my end from afar closer to me. True, with every hardship I find ease, and every word He says is in earnest beneficially, though alas at times it seems crowds cannot bridge a tear in the fabric of possibility, when only just another is all there's thought to need. if spirituality has filled my soul, then where belongs the path claimed by mortality? is it just a dream, or is there a method in the madness we just yet don't see? my luggage is now with Allah, though my destination is there as well, my body's stuck in time and space, where it hates to dwell. this world has nothing for me, no dollar can quell my nafs, no vision of buildings stacked on high to make me gasp in awe, no wonder physical to a better conclusion draw. it is true, the hayaat of this world is a prison, not just for the mind, but everything that resides within. I'd forgo the fruits of this and now, to taste the sweetness of there and then. But, alas, there is no escape, the test is tried and true, and over this all reality slowly drapes.

- in the name of Allah -




Closing Curtains


When the stars fall from their place in the heavens,
When babies are never born and never meet their brethren,

When music etched into souls becomes as records played,
When only the self can propel one enough to save,

When money no longer is enough to fill the emptiness,
When blood has to be spilled to cover the cost of redress,

When people seek from outside what is to be filled within,
When people see sunshine while the evening only further dims,

When the past is a thorn still lingering enough to prick,
When the bonds of brotherhood wither and become a twig,

When judgment is given before trial or explanation,
When reason and truth are no longer enough to suffice pain's satiation,

When the gun is jumped but time never given its due,
When words can't bandage the hurt from what another went through,

When signs don't mean enough to change frozen hearts,
When accountability only concerns one's own part,

When bridges can't be built because there are no bricks,
When people keep their stones and reach a plateau less than half as thick,

When fad determines the worthiness of a path to be taken,
When painlessness takes the place of happiness in station,

When the doors of the soul become shut and the windows opened,
When others can only see but never reach the internally woven,

When wealth and stature repeal the laws of virtue and respect,
When material is the only worthwhile gain and the rest derelict,

When people only see words in their least expressive meaning,
In the stead of hearts who are in vain so fiercely beating

...

Such times, remember Allah, for He is always there
To ease the burden, and bring Victory ever near

- in the name of Allah -



seeds planted in spring yielded fruit in fall, things I thought I'd counted rightly missed their mark completely and made One enough for it all. brotherhood became a web to catch the valleys, when hills fell from folly. as days stretch to weeks and weeks to months, recovery dissolves into earnest resolve. I don't foresee much anymore, people come and go as shades of kingly thrones fall behind their source and bow to the greater purpose in store. ideas became as ideal as they could without drowning the brain that held them, safeenati became now a means to overcome the treacherous seas. in this world of the ocean's surface, I find tension pretentious, likely to give way to whim of wind without a moment's notice. so it is, the safeena rocks to and fro, supplanting the earth-like solidity with water's conforming