Ramadan Mubarak folks! May Allah Ta'aal make this a productive, fulfilling and enriching month filled with lots of prayers, reflections, and increase in piety and wisdom. May we learn to forgive those who have caused us pain, and seek forgiveness from those whom we have inflicted pain upon. Enjoy the beauty and serenity of this blessed month. Ramadan Mubarak to you and your family ♥
Woke up earlier then dawn, winter’s tone flows through the open window, chilled to the bones watching the sun shift aside the night’s shadow.
Here today because I quarrelled with yesterday, embraced by the unwelcome, touched by the unforgotten, herded to grazing lands by a metallic Alsatian.
Even in this concrete jungle and all its insincere glitter, I hunger for the sand dunes that mark her; I was always enchanted by the world yet my heart has been touched by none better.
Seek and you shall find, tapping electronic maps, in search of peace of mind.
Outside of this realm perhaps, yet stronger ever is the earthly bind.
Conversations based on convergence, sustained by the nostalgia of independence. How so when we never address the innocent man’s grievance.
Political ignorance or just rebellious persistence, I keep chasing the unity that dances on horizon’s distance. Swirling to nomadic harmony, seeking deliverance from the wastelands to the once was sanctity.
Hearts torn with the same ease I a rip the pages out of my dairy, gems are the tears of our mothers, if only like rain water I was able to collect them, alleviate their pain with my pen, thus peace and security be not only in their recollection.
In life I have discovered many a currency yet only one truly entices the fool, faces on pieces of paper only make the gluttonous drool. Every single one of you is a pearl that would shine from the depths of the darkest sea, do you not appreciate the value I see.
In the young souls I found commonality or maybe we share the same naivety. Even in their state they beam rays that would make any soul happy. Watching them play mixed sweetness of joy and the pain of knowing that we might never meet again.
Enough with the realities of vivacity, on the pages of history our idealism will be drawn. Our efforts will be documented by the heavenly. Unity is the only weapon needed to defeat any enemy.
So before you close your eyes and bid farewell to today, ask your soul the questions, for the lack of harmony am I the reason? Can I venture for us alone? I for one believe clarity starts at home.
Got to a point in my life where rain drops feel like acid ballots shot from the heavens with a heave heart, but we stay so nonchalant, like we can survive a war with great stakes, bodies filled the great lakes, oceans red accented by the moon to color our world with different shades of blood, as gloom takes a young mothers womb, with no praise and glaze darker than dooms day, shelter her heart with the peace of god and the will to move past the ignorance, and those who are persistence with there massage of hate, I got to a point in my life where the young and wise turn into soldiers and than body bags, where the rich get richer, count money with spinter fingers, we rip the soil and burn the soul of mother nature, we wait as she takes her course of revenge, and spits hurricanes of death, and earthquakes as we shaken her to the core, she will shake us to our graves, and drown the world with her tears of hope, only than can we see the rainbow, so long, where's my pot of gold, I got to a point in life where the shade of your skin gets you where you need to go, where proud killed the son, and tribes killed us all, where hungry is taking lives and keeping a score, it's a war and mankind is unarmed, you take a leap not of faith, to the streets, to point your life not to where u wanna go but where you need to be,
*Based on the authentic Hadith by Abu Hurairah (May allah be pleased with him) who reported: The Messenger of Allah (sallallaahu ’alayhi wa sallam) said: "The world is the believer's prison and the infidel's Jannah". [470:Muslim].
No lines, no class all done, the advent of labour in the new sense for the pence, over the farm fence walkers to the distance from their residence.
What your neighbor is doing later is making paper, no longer fancy cups, scones or odkaac to mark the practiced centuries later.
Here later at danger of never knowing about Arawello Wiilwaal and degdher.
Cater to an active nature or is it not a choice?
Is it for a conveyor belt of organized labour and business enterprise, to make the paper that accommodates the draper that protects you from reaching for the vapour, to rub on the worn down weathered working.
Overworking to keep up with the ever rising.
Neglecting yet unaffecting barely scraping.
Left over no cover only Allah savior from an ongoing breaking of the souls scaffolding, gone are the days……..