Khalid Mukhtar

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

Poetry

Sufficiency

· ·

He wept and he prayed in the light of the moon
Not a moment relenting from prayer
As the tears streamed down his beautiful face
Every breath of his scented the air.

All three hundred men and thirteen, lay asleep
In the peace that the night prayer brought
But he stayed awake with an awe in his heart
Of the Might and Majesty of God.

The ache in his feet, the pleas of his friend
And the night’s cold pursuit of the dawn
Couldn’t turn him away from the presence Divine
That his being was focused upon.

We turn to the world with our hopes and our fears
Belittling the power of prayer
Yet a fortress of planning and action will fall
If it’s built on a foundation where

The reliance on God isn’t there.

حسبي اللہ ونعم الوکيل

Inspired by Shaykh Amin’s sermon this past Friday.

Just Another Friday Song

· ·

On the ramp
To the tollway
It’s crammed
The whole way
Slow going
Beats no going

Thoughts rain
On my window
To drain
All my sin though
Still flowing
Unknowing

The day is young and Fri
It’s time I enter my
Cave
And feel the light

As smiles and tears race
To grace and stain your face
Time
Will seal the night

Again.

Don’t coddle your sadness

· ·

Don’t coddle your sadness
To demons’ delight
That drives you to madness
Away from the light,
But do let your sorrow
To lift you on wings
Of hopeful tomorrow
And all that it brings.

To The Trump Transition Team, With Love

· ·

Remember always: they’ll be watching you,
So watch yourself and be a bit afraid;
Injustice has a way of falling through
And dragging with it all who give it aid.
So think before you act if think you can;
It is a way to take a matter through
The stages of a formidable plan
And most importantly, do think of you.
For once a plan is executed, know
The livelihoods and lives that it enslaves
All come together as a hammer’s blow
On tyrant bodies writhing in their graves.
The angels watching, waiting, never tire
To drag the hands of tyrants into fire.

Darknesses

· ·

The darkness behind me said: Darkness is here
The darkness before me said: You will know fear
The darkness above me said: Where will you hide
The darkness below me said: Come to my side
So I shut my eyes and I saw through the wall
I covered my ears and I heeded the call
The darkness within was the darkest of all
I opened a window and let in the dawn
Now all of the darkness within me is gone

On Hope

· ·

You cannot hope to be one free of pain
While pain is all around you and within
Where heart repeats perpetual refrain
To punctuate the story you are in.
But let your hope lay down its weary head
Upon the breast of prayer wont to rise
On wings of love sincere when they’re spread
To meet the wind. With tear-moistened eyes,
Go swim around that ever-fading star
Of life, and in your faithful orbit stay
That in the darkness whence you seem afar
You rise and fall, and rise to show the way.
It only bodes despair when you have lost
The solemn will to hope at any cost.

To Be One

· ·

To be one with the babble of river,
The soft whispers of cedar and pine;
To be one with the mountain, the wind and the sea
And the swallow and swift in decline;

To be one with the wave in surrender
As it breaks on the shore in relief;
To be one with the dew at the first light of dawn
As it kisses the face of a leaf;

To be one.

Noyz

· ·

We’ve fled the city with its memories
Of breaths and names, and instead left behind
Our fickle footsteps lost to every breeze
And found again beneath the weight of mind.
I teeter on a slippy edge of time
As teenage chatter drowns the car I’m in
In laughter that must constitute a crime
When fused with snores designed to waken Jinn.
There is no thinking I could ever do
While in this otherwise efficient train,
No headphones block the sounds I play unto
My mind which never falters to retain
The garbage that once heard stays on repeat
Until I’ve gotten off this blasted seat.

On The Sources Of Tears

· ·

The first, when tragedy befalls a soul
Through sudden death or grievous injury,
Through feeling quite a measure less than whole
When comes the hurtful loss of dignity.
The second, when a soul is drenched in praise
With all its humbleness exposed as wealth
That in its terribly intricate ways
It attributes all greatness to itself.
The third, when heedlessness sets heart on fire
And pours despair abundantly as fuel
But then the inward eye, it drowns desire
And sends its soothing waters up to cool.
This is the day, now is the time to cry
To let your love return and cool your eye.

On So Much

· ·

so-much

 

 

 

 

 

 

We like So Much so much; let me explain.
Some nights we cuddle up as dad and tot
And let the rhyme and flexible refrain
To captivate us for the time we’ve got.
Mom’s cool, and although Auntie Bibba rocks,
It’s Uncle Didi, Nannie and Gran-Gran
We love: the lingo Cousin Kay-Kay talks,
Big Cousin Ross, and Daddy who’s THE MAN.
“Again!” I dodge the sleepy tot’s protest
And send the book to shelf with skillful toss,
Distracting him with “Who do you like best?”
He flashes toothy grin, “Big Cousin Ross.”
So much is such an entertaining book
By Helen Oxenbury and Trish Cooke.