Word, like wind, cuts through you / Withers all but true you
To hear of what a man has said
To want to hear it for yourself
To take the road, to seek him out
To learn what he is all about
And when you reach that blessed place
And see his person full of grace
To greet him with the words that came
Upon your heart in Allah’s Name
It is an act surpassing sense
That human hearts endure
When intellect shows deference
To an intention pure
Sweet is the taste of remembrance
So long as the self has been slain
Or else such remembrance may turn into poison
Though all of its sweetness remains
Courtesy http://sulook.org/hikam
Let not knowledge hail
As rooftop clatter
A trifle detriment
To never matter
But let its fall be silent
As first snow
To lie in sparkling splendor
There to know
Or float it to descend
As springtime shower
That blossoms winter-weary
Shoot to flower
If came forth every soul of humankind
With their imaginations all combined
And forged a grand and joint imagining
More beautiful than mortal mind may bring
Therein begins a trace of Paradise
Where morsels of eternity may spring
Inspired by Shaykh Amin’s quotes.
He’s driving
Keeps his sight ahead
Won’t turn his head
To look into your car
A lofty stance
But then he gets
To catch a glimpse
Cognition limps
But doesn’t get too far
He looks askance
And sees you
Seeing him – a grin
Recognition!
Although one deemed subpar
By rueful glance
If you trust the messenger
But doubt the message
It’s clear you must
Not trust its source
Or not know trust
He pointed to his heart of nūr,
Said, “Taqwā: it is here,”
I place a palm upon my own
And feel the word sincere.
Then ask myself: am I among
Who judge in hallowed name?
Or on the other side, a jackal
Playing at a game?
Whatever be my malady,
The heart is hid from eyes,
But naked does it lie before
The Sight that never dies.
He pointed to his blessed heart,
Said, “Taqwā: it is here.”
Ingenious the word that fills
A heart with hope and fear.
Scanning the shops
On the banks of concourse B
I find only disappointment
And almond bark thins
The disappointment is free
I’d sing you a song
But how do I share
My feelings with something
As fickle as air
I’d write you some verse
But that wouldn’t do
I can’t trust to paper
My fondness for you
I’d promise you good times
But time is a beast
That’s prone to conspiring
With fate in the least
So I’ll say a prayer
Now under my breath
To never be parted
From you beyond death
And if too much of me
Appears a crime
Remember we got past
Air paper and time
Neither kufr nor shirk nor sin
But rather what we fear
Is our weakness in
Representing who’s held dear
In all of creation
To Him who’s ever near