Word, like wind, cuts through you / Withers all but true you
Look at trees
In the breeze
Quietly to wonder at
A simple word
That when uttered
Becomes a seed that blows
Upon a wind
That knows no sin
To where the treasure goes
A garden greener
Than the scenery
Right at the start
Before the word
Had softly stirred
Inside remembering heart
You smiling there.
That’s good.
Deciding where
We should
Begin our day.
We could
Be honest with our feelings and just lay it all down:
There’s a City match in 30 minutes
Wonder if their hearts are in it
Oh well, someone’s gotta win it
(What else, let me think)
Mom ain’t home that’s sad
Sisters too, we’re glad
Guess we’re lucky to be with
Our (ahem) perfect Dad
Tell me why it’s such a something when my Dad’s at home
Every word I say gets rearranged into a poem
Wait, I’m dealing with this bagel dancing with my teeth
Tajir Yusuf makes ‘em proper
(Sorry, got to eat)
Can we go now?
Doesn’t pay to be an idiot
Doesn’t pay to be a fool
Doesn’t pay to be a moron
Just the opposite of cool
How I hope this silly wisdom
Is expressly understood
That it’s foolish to be foolish
If the payment isn’t good
The winds just need an opening to blow
Into your secret rooms where you conceal
Your cryptic and subversive plans below
The floorboards creaking every time you kneel
The rains survey the weakness in your roof
And seek a path to fall into your space
Where moisture plays its wrinkles into truth
Well hidden in the patterns of your drapes
And where the wind and rain may find admission
There, the cold will follow in the end
To plunge your quarters into indecision
That oft accompanies the rain and wind
Repair the roof and windows, seal the door
And let your weary forehead warm the floor
We talk and we talk of
The love that we’re in
And we’re humble and all
As we swagger within
And we’re basking in praise
That would shame all the jinn
But I’ll give you a name
That will shatter your pride
If you read how he lived
And the way that he died
That Mukhtar our Habīb
Picked him up and he cried:
“He is of me and I am of him.”
Julaybib.
RadiAllahu anhu
Between the stream of tears
And rocky hard terrain
There grows a sapling hopeful
Of mercy in the rain