Khalid Mukhtar

Word, like wind, cuts through you / Withers all but true you

Khalid Mukhtar

Time for a Plan

· ·

In the face of forever,
One year, or one hundred,
All amount to the blink of an eye,
The span of a sigh,
Or the time that it takes
For time to go by.

So why then say that it is all over
When cancer claims her
Bullets ravage him
Conspiracy frames you
Or Facebook savages them.

I can see why:
It’s because
You are contained in time,
So it’s hard,
And as my brother says,
Harder to ignore it.

But you didn’t use to be
Contained.
You are built to live
Outside of time.

So, don’t say it is over.
Say instead: it has begun.
It will be over
When the One
Over it says it’s done.

May Yaqub’s sweet patience
Be your balm.
Stay calm
Let’s make a plan,

You, for your troubles,
And I, for mine.

Float

· ·

When a leaf begins to blow
It doesn’t know where it will go
But go it does until it comes to rest
So let the winds of destiny
Deliver you to where you’ll be
Cool river’s playmate or warm meadow’s guest

Journey On

· ·

As you ascend the rocky hill
Or swim the rushing stream
To get there (because getting there
Is often times the dream)
Just know: your destination
Decides the load you bear;
What matters more than where you go
Is rather how you fare.

The Twenty-ninth of Ramadan

· ·

O Allah, help me. Help me get
To where that fountain bursts;
And when I get there Allah, let
Me quench my burning thirst
By him whose hands were raised for me,
O Allah, let me meet
Your Mukhtar. Khalid longs to be
Beside his blessed feet.

The Twenty-eighth of Ramadan

· ·

Hope is like the waning moon
That flees the starlit night
But only for returning soon
A floating silver scythe
To cut the ties of apathy
And cast aside despair

Let the ink of tawbah dye
This dark and silent satin sky

The Twenty-seventh of Ramadan

· ·

Sitting on a prayer rug,
I’m broken like a twig;
Got nothing left to show, Lord
Nothing there to give.

My heart is heavy, laden
With all this filth and grime,
Dripping with the sins that I have
Gathered over time.

Let it rain Your Nur
To wash away the dirt
This sinner has forgotten how
The touch of sin must hurt.

Sitting on a prayer rug,
Trying hard to cry,
Truth for me is buried deep,
Deep inside a lie.

The Twenty-sixth of Ramadan

· ·

Let not my Nabi
Turn away
Away from me
Upon that day

Allah, when shade
Is hard to find
When I would trade
The aggregate
Of all the pleasures
In my mind

But let him find me
In the throngs
And wave me over
To his side
Beneath the mantle of Mukhtar
Where in your endless mercy, Lord
Khalid might abide

The Twenty-fourth of Ramadan

· ·

If comes the Night of Power
And you are in its grasp
Your heart will soften in that hour
Till you weep at last
Seeking forgiveness
To be forgiven
Being forgiven
To forgive
Bless the tears
That let you live

The Twenty-third of Ramadan

· ·

To whoso I have wronged in ways
That only you can tell
If there be harm that I’ve forgotten
Through time’s onward swell

I’m sorry and I hope you’ll find
Your Garden filled with flowers
Each sprung from my forgetful mind
That thinks of you for hours

The greater challenge now remains
To find the ones i know
Who I have hurt, and use my brains
To have them let it go