Poetry

The ten are upon you
Each day is designed
To help you to gather
Your body, your mind
Your fragmented soul
And get them aligned
With the pulses of Nūr
His Grace has defined

Khalid: get aligned

Ilāhi save me from
The fool I am now
And the fool I may become

Every field and mountain
Every blade of grass
Every fish and bird and beast
And every tree I pass

Everything in order
Carefully designed
To harmonize a soul
With its cogitating mind

You know what they say
The ultimate con
Is to make you believe
You can never be conned

You wander past whispers
That honor your pride
With all of your dignity
Thrown to the side

Go seek out a slave
Who fathoms the soul
Knows how it’s connected
And what makes it whole

Now don’t go competing
To have the last word
It’s a drug some prescribe
Though its side effects hurt:

Long vacuous hours
Anxiety and you’re
Entirely obsessed with
Delusions of grandeur

I  may not like all that you do
In fact, may even hate it too
But I’m glad to pass the salt
If you still want it

Sometimes it’s like an onion
The more you peel the less you have
Just chop it up that’s best

Sometimes a pomegranate
You cut it open to get to the seeds
And throw away the rest

And sometimes like a mango
Just take it in both hands
To squeeze and slurp and swallow
Until nothing can be done
But get another one

The world is a minefield
Unto your soul
So watch where you step
And mind how you roll

You’d been thinking quite a lot
Now you’re positive you got it
But your brain cells pawned a trinket
And you sadly went and bought it

See with thinking you can’t focus
On the payoff or the hours
It’s a passage through a forest
You should stop to smell the flowers

Be one with all creation
Connect with every scene
Observe, attend so you ascend
The ladder of yaqīn