Micropoetry

We tend to be extravagant
With time we’ve hoarded, drawn and spent
On things we do not need at all
And happiness that came and went,
So let’s not say we have no time
When what we really mean to say
Is we have none to give.

If ever you feel good about
Yourself, then you had better know
The devil’s got you, there’s no doubt;
You see he’s made from fire, so
He understands the nafs how you
Cannot, no matter what you do.

My heart is at the rawdah
Moistened by the longing
Eye that hasn’t seen yet knows
The sweetness of belonging

Careful, when you speak
Of a saying of the prophet
That is classified as weak.
The hadith isn’t weaker,
Not at all, than such a speaker.

Courtesy http://sulook.org/hikam.

Truth:
The surface of a lake,
Still, at rest;
Stir to wake;
The ripples are for us
Who do not see it.

words can burn
scar and maim
even slay
all the same
spirits cringe
at the game
of a tongue
taking aim

sticks and stones
break my bones

look for the moment
wind and bough
here and now
faithful companions
quiet submission

A dweller in the garden
Rises from a resting place
Leaves, a patch of verdant green
In a solitary trace
Rise in glory
Breathe in bliss
Fragrances
And then there’s this

Let the morning sunshine
Wash the golden petal,
Strengthen stalk for wind and dew
That seeks a leaf to settle.

One, the source of sunshine,
Of petal, wind and dew,
And One, the source of word and thought,
Remembering the True.

 

There is no procreation
In paradise; it’s where
Eternal is companionship
For those who flourish there.

And herein lies the irony
Within the devil’s snare:
It sparked the procreation of
The one he couldn’t bear.

Courtesy sulook.org/hikam