Bend over and peer at this seedling
That has now blossomed into a rose
The fragrance; amorous and giving
Entranced me into an unstable pose

Wandering aimlessly, I am drunk
Tears and smiles fall from my eyes
My filled heart has sunk,
Heavy with images, actions, and sighs

The deceitful forms are so beautiful
So transitory, yet mighty
I sing to the rose aiming to lull
Hoping it will notice me

But I am not enough
To contain its flouncing soul
It is unstoppable and tough
Bound to the laws of its role

“I am but a guide” The rose says
“But I want to keep you” I respond
“I am but a reflection” The rose says
“I know, but I am weak” I respond

The rose shakes its head
And flutters away in the wind
I am alone and stagnant as lead
But with a heart brimming and unpinned

This heart laughs at every ravishing form
it communicates with.
Every illusion, obstacle, companion in a dorm,
it lavishes with.

This heart satiates every one of its fibers
with the pleasure of its scene.
It drinks up the happiness it gains
from the beautiful illusions of others.

As a result this heart has become sick.
The mind cries at night when the reality
approaches it.
Yet it is also content with the little
Happiness it receives.

How foolish this heart
when it can be free from flaws
by satiating itself with Dhikr-
clear-flowing water that nourishes
every living thing in its path.

satiated with
Love and Constancy,
Enveloped in
Sincerity and Longing,
for divine connection and
Consummation.

The intellect kicks in
With its profound wisdom
I have been given so much
An unappreciated kingdom.

I have reached my car
I sit in the front seat
Pondering heavy, reminiscing
Of a time of joyous heartbeat.

With a heavy heart I sit
In the library to surge through my books
After diving for some time
I look up to see a scene of quaint looks.

I wave at a familiar face
I receive a hearty return
“Here is my prayer rug”
A usual gesture, I learn.

“Do you need food?”
“Are you hungry?”
And I begin to wonder
Why so generous? Why so friendly?

They insist on buying me
a cup of coffee.
I follow their request
And enjoy every toffee,
Every fruit of the conversation.
The warm, delicious fluid,
Filling my stomach as well as my heart.

The cup of coffee has left a dent on it
On how such a small act of kindness can beget
Such a moment of happiness that the receiver
Knows she will never forget.

He said that with every period in life there will be a competition, and a struggle to stay away from the wrong type of competition.  Even “pious” people will compete with one another…they will compete to have the most ”beautiful” and “pious” children, the bigger house, the greater number of donations given to charity, and the list goes on.  So although in college people compete with grades…the competition with grades transcends to competition in other areas as we grow older.  My cousin told me to be aware and not to succumb to it.  InshAllah none of us will.  Ameen.

Here is a good poem by Rumi that was translated by Ali K-R.  It is about sacrificing the nourishment of the body for the nourishment of the soul–which is longer lasting and will bring more satisfaction in the long run.

“Life goes on in hope of tomorrow, ignorantly it goes towards turmoil.  Know the value of these days today, watch and see how you trade them away.  At times for a bag, at times for a cup, life left.  Every breath leaves the bag of our life.

Death takes away one by one and in awe of it, even the wise lose their color and wit.  Death is standing upon the path waiting, the master goes towards it in meditation.  Death has now come closer to our thoughts, pray tell, to where do the thoughts of the heedless go?

The body is a sacrifice, don’t nourish it so.  Nourish your heart, for it is your heart that ascends.  Don’t fatten up this corpse, for the one who nourishes his body will go forth ruined.  Through wisdom, fatten up your spirit so that it may gain strength, for it goes to that place.  Your wisdom comes from that king who is righteous in the way, for he is the one that goes like a blazing sun.”

How beautiful to the sight;
The object looms ahead.
It reflects the white fluorescent  light
Into purple, green, and red.

The baby has not seen
Anything quite so nice.
She pines to hold it in her palm;
The object is made to entice.

The object moves in orbit-style
In its mobile carousel.
A leader in its crew-while
the baby follows well.

Everytime she tries to grab
The precious figurine.
Everytime the object laughs
At baby’s naivety.

Oh how cruel is life!
To tease us so, when we are weak and light.
How many times do we sacrafice
Love for what is right?

The carousel is gone.
The parts are shipped to an antique store.
A new toy for baby has not won
Its heart at its precious core.

For nothing can compare
To what is lost and what is missing.
The object was unmatched in skills;
Height of beauty never christened

The baby cries for mercy,
The tears are not enough,
To revive the innocent sea
Of baby’s first dream and love.

Chorus:

*My Lord’s knowledge has sufficed me
from asking or choosing
Qad Kafaani ‘Ilmu Rabbi
Min su Alee Wakhtiyaari

For my du’a and my agonising supplication
is a witness to my poverty.
Faa do ‘aa ii Wabtihali
Shaahidun li Bif ti Qaa ri*

End Chorus

For this secret (reason) I make supplication
in times of ease and times of difficulty
Faa li hatha sirri ad ‘uu
Fii Ya saa rii wa ‘a saa rii

I am a slave whose pride
is in his poverty and obligation.
Ana abdun Saa ra Fakhri
Dim na Faq ree Wad tiraarii

*Chorus*

O my Lord and my King
You know my state.
Ya Ilahi Wa maliki
Anta Ta’lam Kayfa Halii

And what has settled in my heart
of agonies and preoccupations.
Wa bi maa qad Hala Qal bee
Min hu moo mi washtighalee

Save me with a gentleness
from You, O Lord of Lords.
Fata da Rak nee bi lutfin
Min ka yaa Mow lal Ma wa lii

Oh save me, Most Generous
before I run out of patience (with myself)
Ya kareem mal waj hi ghith nee
Qab la a-Yaf Nas ti baa ree

*Chorus*

O One who is swift in sending aid
I ask for aid that will arrive to me swiftly
Ya Saree ‘al Ghowthi Ghowtha
Min Ka Yud rik Ni suree a

It will defeat all difficulty
and it will bring all that I hope for
Yah Zimul Usrawa Ya ti
Bilathi narjuu Jamee ‘aa

O Near One Who answers
and All-Knowing and All-Hearing
Ya Qareeban Ya Mujeeban
Ya ‘Aleeman Ya Samee’an

I have attained realization through my incapacity,
my submission and my brokenness
Qad Tahaqaq Tuu be aj zee
Wa Khudoo ‘ii Wan kisaaree

I am still standing by the door, so please my Lord
have mercy on my standing.
Lam Azal bil Babi wa Qif
Far Haman Rabbi Wu kuufi

And in the valley of generosity, I am in i’tikaf (solitary retreat)
So, Allah, make my retreat here permanent.
Wa bi waadil Fadli ‘Aa Qif
Fa a dim Rabbi U koofi

And I’m abiding by good opinion (of You)
For it is my friend and ally.
Wali husnil Zanee lazim
Wa huwa khilee wa haleefi

And it is the one that sits by me and keeps me company
All day and night.
Wa aneesi wa jaleesi
Toola layli wanahaari

*Chorus*

There is a need in my soul, O Allah
so please fulfil it, O Best of Fulfillers
Haajatan fin Nafsi Ya Rabb
Faq di Hayaa Khayra Qaadi

And comfort my secret and my heart
from its burning and its shrapnel
Wa ahrih sir Ree wa Qalbi
Min Laza Ha Wa shuwazi

In pleasure and in happiness
and as long as You are pleased with me
Fi surooriw Wa hubooriw
Wa itha ma kuntu Raadii

For joy and expansion is my state
and my motto and my cover.
Fal hanna wal Bas ti haali
Wa shi ‘aaree Wa di thaaree

*Chorus*

My Lord’s knowledge has sufficed me
from asking or choosing
Qad Kafaani ‘Ilmu Rabbi
Min su Alee Wakhtiyaari

–Douglas Mallock

Hardship is a means of salvation on the Day of Judgement, InshAllah.  It may not seem like it at first, but tribulations makes you stronger.

Another thing I learned: this world is really not worth it.
Just aim to get into Jannah (Paradise)…once you are there…that’s where the party begins. Think of this world as the 9-5 job shift, and death the release from the job at 5 PM. The barzakh is the time it takes for you to get home…and finally your home is your eternal destination (hopefully in Paradise).
SubhanAllah.

InshAllah we will all one day be able to say, “Ah! There is nothing like home! Home sweet home!”

 “Turn your back in repentance to Him, and fear Him: establish regular prayers, and be not amongst those who join gods with God, those who split up their Religion, and become (mere) Sects,- each party rejoicing in that which is with itself!”
-Surah Rum 31-32

Muslims are so bewildered and confused these days by the massive amount of trivial differences that exist between different Islamic “sects”.  At the end of the day everyone should realise that it is our “burning” for God that matters.  I love this poem…read it and you will understand what I mean by “burning.”

 Moses and the Shepherd
Jalaluddin Rumi

Moses heard a shepherd on the road praying, “God,”
where are You? I want to help You, to fix Your shoes
and comb Your hair. I want to wash Your clothes
and pick the lice off. I want to bring You milk,
to kiss Your little hands and feet when it’s time
for You to go to bed. I want to sweep Your room
and keep it neat. God, my sheep and goats
are Yours. All I can say, remembering You,
is ayyyy and ahhhhhhhhh.”
 
Moses could stand it no longer.
“Who are you talking to?”
“The One who made us,
and made the earth and made the sky.”
“Don’t talk about shoes
and socks with God! And what’s this with Your little hands
and feet? Such blasphemous familiarity sounds like
you’re chatting with your uncles.
Only something that grows
needs milk. Only someone with feet needs shoes. Not God!
Even if you meant God’s human representatives
as when God said, ‘I was sick, and you did not visit me,’
even then this tone would be foolish and irreverent.
 
Use appropriate terms. Fatima is a fine name
for a woman, but if you call a man Fatima,
it’s an insult. Body-and-birth language
are right for us on this side of the river,
but not for addressing the Origin,
not for Allah.”
 
The shepherd repented and tore his clothes and sighed
and wandered out into the desert.
A sudden revelation
came then to Moses. God’s voice:
 
You have separated Me
from one of my own. Did you come as a Prophet to unite,
or to sever?
I have given each being a separate and unique way
of seeing and knowing and saying that knowledge.
What seems wrong to you is right for him.
What is poison to one is honey to someone else.
Purity and impurity, sloth and diligence in worship,
these mean nothing to Me.
I am apart from all that.
Ways of worshipping are not to be ranked as better
or worse than one another.
…
It’s all praise, and it’s all
right.
It’s not Me that’s glorified in acts of worship.
It’s the worshippers! I don’t hear the words
they say. I look at the humility.
That broken-open lowliness is the Reality,
not the language! Forget phraseology.
I want burning,
burning.
Be friends
with your burning. Burn up your thinking
and your forms of expression!
Moses,
those who pay attention to ways of behaving
and speaking are one sort.
Lovers who burn
are another.
 
Don’t impose a property tax
on a burned out village. Don’t scold the Lover.
The “wrong” way he talks is better than a hundred
“right” ways of others.
 
Inside the Kaaba
it doesn’t matter which direction you point
your prayer rug!
The ocean diver doesn’t need snowshoes!
The Love-Religion has no code or doctrine.
Only God.
So the ruby has nothing engraved on it!
It doesn’t need markings.
 
God began speaking deeper mysteries to Moses. Vision and words,
which cannot be recorded here, poured into
and through him. He left himself and came back.
He went to Eternity and came back here.
Many times this happened.
It’s foolish of me
to try and say this. If I did say it,
it would uproot our human intelligences.
It would shatter all writing pens.
 
Moses ran after the shepherd.
He followed the bewildered footprints,
in one place moving straight like a castle
across a chessboard. In another, sideways,
like a bishop.
Now surging like a wave cresting,
now sliding down like a fish,
with always his feet
making geomancy symbols in the sand,
recording
his wandering state.
Moses finally caught up
with him.
 
“I was wrong. God has revealed to me
that there are no rules for worship.
Say whatever
and however your loving tells you to. Your sweet blasphemy
is the truest devotion. Through you a whole world
is freed.
Loosen your tongue and don’t worry what comes out.
It’s all the Light of the Spirit.”
 
The shepherd replied,
“Moses, Moses,
I’ve gone beyond even that.
You applied the whip and my horse shied and jumped
out of itself. The Divine Nature and my human nature
came together.
Bless your scolding hand and your arm.
I can’t say what has happened.
What I’m saying now
is not my real condition. It can’t be said.”
The shepherd grew quiet.
 
When you look in a mirror,
you see yourself, not the state of the mirror.
The fluteplayer puts breath into a flute,
and who makes the music? Not the flute.
The Fluteplayer!
 
Whenever you speak praise
or thanksgiving to God, it’s always like this
dear shepherd’s simplicity.
When you eventually see
through the veils of how things really are,
you will keep saying again
and again,
“This is certainly not like we thought it was!”
 
Mathnawi II 1720-96, from This Longing: Poetry, Teaching Stories, and Selected Letters, translated by Coleman Barks and John Moyne (Putney, Vt.: Threshold Books, 1988), pp. 19-22.

I left out one line in the poem because some people will not understand it.  Also, when the shephard says that his Divine Nature and Human Nature have combined, he is merely discussing this authentic hadith:

Abu Hurayra said that the Messenger of God, may God bless him and grant him peace, said, “God Almighty said, ‘I have declared war on anyone who shows enmity to a friend of Mine. My slave does not draw near to Me with anything I love more than what I have made obligatory on him. And my slave continues to draw near to Me with superogatory actions until I love him. When I love him, I become his hearing with which he hears, his seeing with which he sees, his hand with which he strikes, and his foot with which he walks. If he were to ask Me for something, I would give it to him. If he were to ask Me for refuge, I would give him refuge.’” [al-Bukhari]

That is one of my favorite ahadeeth…ever.  MashAllah.

Form vs Meaning:

Our body is the outward form, our soul is the inner meaning.

Ritual prayer, Fiqh, and Aqeedah is the form, our love, humility, and devotion to God is the meaning.

I was trying to explain this to someone one day…and they totally missed my point…I was trying to build bridges and they probably thought I was debating because they became a bit defensive.

Instead of finding differences that separate, people are supposed to be finding similarities and expound upon that.  Why do people bicker and expound upon the small stuff?  I don’t get it…

The fact that Muslims have fragmented is really depressing.  It has come to the point where Muslims refuse to marry others based on their “belonging to Sunni…Shia…salafi…sufi..etc.”  How do you think the Prophet (pbuh) would feel if he knew that young Muslim brothers and sisters of his Ummah could not marry and sometimes even befriend each other based on these differences?  I honestly think this is sign of the end times.

However…one of my most trusted friends told me that you should marry someone who you are “spiritually compatible” with.  I will never forget it and I completely agree.  Otherwise there may be some problems as the husband and wife try to grow spiritually together.  The only problem is…how can you judge someone’s spirituality?

Alas! It failed my intellect!
My heart longs for what my mind avoids!
This inner tug-of-war has resulted.
In a heart that aches, a mind that thinks.
And tears that fall.

Then a wise man on the road,
His glasses shimmering in the heat of thought
Said to me with concern on his brow
The burning you feel in your heart…
Target it to God!  To God!
Whatever beauty you see in temporal forms, is within God…
And He is reachable to all!
Ache for what you can have!  Aim for Eternal Meaning!

My heart, dumbfounded and amazed,
Slowly gave in to the wise man.
Yes! She cried, to the mind and to God.

Though the heart promised to change.
The struggle persists.
“It may be that this temporal form
Is a path to God.”

Time is running out, uncertainty prevails.
But in the end, If I lose out on the form.
I can never lose out on finding Him,
Unless death takes me by surprise.

God is my companion
Whether I gain the form or not.
I will never be alone.
The heart smiles.  The mind meditates.
Peace.

If you are unfortunate enough to have come across this post, I apologize for the weirdness. This is what happens during finals week. :)

She saw me come and she smiled
And gave me hearty welcome,
An honest move, I’m not beguiled
This girl is surely something

She never once showed anger
She always kept it tucked inside
When I entered bitterly to her
My heart softened by her side

She’d listen to my hardships,
And with one wave of her hand
They fell between my fingertips
And vanished like the sand

And every day, the same warmth she has
Refuses to run out
Her friendliness never wears
And she never once did shout

So listen well my Muslim sister
Show warmth and self-control
Make sure true beauty doesn’t whither
And make this need no patrol