Poetry

Lord let me not fall into the abyss
Of self-aggrandizing ignorances

My hands, they do my bidding
And my tongue says what I will
But the day will come
When my hands and tongue
Will have me standing still

Oh that shame of standing trial
Will it be too late to pray
Allah spare me please
Allah grant me ease
Let Your Rahmah save the day 

Your Habīb is my guide
Your Nūr lights his way
That I may abide

Nūr upon nūr

Let me not win destruction
By straying from the path
Let me not dress my blessing wounds
With medicated wrath

The spread of all the heavens or
The smallest leaf on earth
Are one in magnitude before
Your Might

So how can all the little things
I’ve done and soon forgotten
Escape the deep attention of
Your Sight

Remind me of them Ya Allah
That I may then repent
Or let Your Grace deliver me
This night

Too long have they been cushioned by
The hearts they’ve trampled on
How will these feet survive
The razor bridge

My hands are free
Reach out for me

Rabbighfirlī
Wa yassirlī
Amrī

Allow me Lord to find the Night
In which my hopes and fears dissolve
Into the highest frequency
Of Nūr infused with iron resolve

A heart untouched by poetry
Submerged in Word Divine
One little sip from Kawthar can
Eclipse the sweetest wine

The hearts that filled at Badr
The tongues that stilled at Badr

The blood that spilled at Badr
By hands that killed at Badr

Three hundred some believers
Set out to build at Badr
What Allah willed at Badr

Don’t let: my seeing make me blind
My hearing make me deaf
My thinking make me lose my mind
My dying bring me death