One drop of Nūr upon this night
Is all my heart desires
One night of worship in this month
Is all a slave requires
So set my ears to hear Your Word
Allow my self to listen
Expand my heart with all I’ve heard
And let me take all this in
The Eleventh of Ramadan
Maghfirah fragrance in the air
As Yusuf’s story fills
Our ears with hope that slays despair
Embrace what Allah wills
And shun the most alluring snare
The Tenth of Ramadan
Like ants that slog each summer day
Despite the rain and sun of May
To gather food to last them through
The year
Grant us so we may fast away
Our sins as we stand nights and pray
To gather Nūr to last us through
The year
The Ninth of Ramadan
The rope is there
If I would grab it
A creature, borne by lassitude,
Of arrogance and lowly habit
Send me, Lord, just one more blast
Of mercy that will help me last
The journey up the mountain, cast
Me down upon the burning sands
Of soul-refining Ramadan
The Eighth of Ramadan
The world is a dark place
Let the twilight remind you
Step into the cave
And recite like a slave
Leave the darkness behind you
The Seventh of Ramadan
What a joy it will be
When I make it to that place
And I stand before a tree
Such a lofty piece of grace
And I learn that it is mine
All its shade and all its fruit
Then I wonder what I did
That begot this thing with root
So I ponder and I think
Even as I take a taste
And the ecstasy I’m in
Puts all word and thought to waste
Then I’m told my tree sprang forth
From the lips of my Nabi
A SubhanAllah uttered
One he uttered meant for me
What a sadaqah, it’s as
His companions let on
That his generosity was
Even more in Ramadan
What a joy it will be
When I make it to that place
And I stand before that tree
What a joy it will be
The Sixth of Ramadan
The sidewalk kissed the toddler’s lip
He gets himself up from the ground
One part of raḥmah all around
The place
There’s ninety-nine more stowed away
We’ll see it on another day
A day when we will get to see
The Face
The Fifth of Ramadan
The pitcher’s half empty
My thirst isn’t quenched
Raḥmah waters
Wash out my toxins
I’ll just keep drinking
And hope I can drown
The sounds of my thinking
The Fourth of Ramadan
They loved the Final Messenger
He loved them even more
When they obeyed
Or when they strayed
Returning by remorse delayed
Like driftwood sanctuary
Just lying on the shore
The Third of Ramadan
Like lumber, sawn, then
Joined and sanded
Soft unto the edge of metal
Let my heart return commanded
To that place where all things settle
With Your Will and Mercy, Lord.