This heart of mine

Tonight
I broke the walls
I unwrapped
my heart
I heard it cry oceans
Ice and fire
It burned
It ached
like canines
against raw flesh
I rinsed it
with Your Love
and as if that was all
it needed
It gave up
in Your Garden
Of Peace
It gave up
all its dreams
all its most ardent desires
for a sole wish
a wish to be
by Your side
on the highest
mountain
in Your ever-lasting
Paradise
It traded
all of world’s fame
with its glory
and games
to be with You

~ I miss you ~

You were like a flower in a barren desert
You were my companion in sadness
and you were there during my moments of joy
You were like the rays of sun lighting up the sky
You had built a castle deep inside my heart
and now your memories seeping through my veins
are burning holes inside my soul
I left a part of me with you, buried in the dirt
as I laid you down, watching you with mournful eyes
If I could just pull you out, and hold you
and keep you warm
If I could just see you once again
If I could just..
Oh how deeply and sorely you’re missed.

Grief

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Grief hit me like a tornado. Grief that was too large to be contained within a small beating organ. Maybe I needed a jar as big as this earth to pour the contents of my heart into. I imagined losing feeling in that organ that insisted on aching with every beat. But the sadness was larger than me. I had two options: Grow numb or face it. I found strength in facing, even as it crushed me, even if the pain felt like a jagged shard of glass being dragged against my heart, even if my lungs felt as if they were on fire, desperately needing air. Even then. I chose to face it. And I grieved. Until the tornado passed and calm took over.

(This post is dedicated to my beautiful cat, Cotton who died couple nights ago. May we meet again in Jannah.)

~ Rise above ~

Subhan’Allaah, a lesson that I’ve been taught by life over and over again is that if you’ve been hurt, don’t lower yourself to the level of the other person, rather rise above their treachery and be confident in the fact that if you’re truthful, Allaah will never leave you to the wolves. How *truly* amazing is Allaah’s Mercy and how beautiful is His Love.

~ “So patiently persevere: for verily the promise of Allaah is true: nor let those shake your firmness, who have (themselves) no certainty of faith.” ~ {soorat ar-Room}

Nothing matters except Him

Amazes me how we worry about our appearances infront of people while we neglect the fact that the *only* one who’s opinion about us truly matters is Allaah. If you care about what people think of you, look at where you stand with Allaah. None of the apparent fame or reputation matters if you’re humiliated in the sight of Allaah.

Our Beloved, Our Prophet

Just reflecting on the life of our beloved Prophet sallallaahu `alayhi wasallam, and it pains the heart to think about the abuse and oppression he had to endure for the sake of this Ummah. How many times did the Quraysh throw filth and dirt on him? How many times was he slandered and rejected? And can we ever forget the incident of Ta’if where even his shoes were soaked in blood from the stones that were being throw at him? We can never be grateful enough for all his – sallallaahu `alayhi wasallam – sacrifices, but the least we can do is follow his footsteps and hold onto his sunnah with our dear lives. The recent film thats being spread around by some despicable people, by Allaah has no affect on him, and does not take away from his honor and his status with Allaah. But nonetheless, it hurts our hearts deeply and angers us beyond tolerance to see our beloved being attacked in such a wicked manner. Lets use that anger and that hurt to further his da`wah, to implement and spread his sunnah and let’s keep our tongues moist with sending salaam upon him.

Oh Allaah, make us his neighbors in Jannah!

Acceptance in Plants.

Its early morning and raining here. I have one of those french doors in my room that opens up to our backyard. So I couldn’t help but sit by the door when I heard the rain. The view from here gives me so much comfort, and the sound of rain is like music to my ears. We have a little garden of organic vegetables on one side of the backyard and roses and other kinds of flowers on the other. I wonder what these plants would say if we could hear them talk. When I was young, I used to avoid walking on grass as I felt it would hurt them. Talk about being too sensitive :/

 As I watched them soaking in the rain I saw.. acceptance. Acceptance of rain even if it was in torrents. They take in the sun’s excessive heat and get covered in snow in winter. They get walked upon, even trampled over. But you still see them produce the most beautiful flowers and fruits. You don’t see any defiance or rejection. And that is what we need more of in our lives: Absolute Acceptance. That no matter what comes our way, the good, the bad and the ugly (or should I say the good, the good and the good since all affairs of the believer are always good. So lets put a positive spin on it :)), we accept it, and  do our best to yield only the best of fruits for our aakhirah.
The plants know their purpose and they do whatever it takes to fulfil that purpose; no questions asked. We know our purpose. And like the plants, we know our lives here are temporary. We, too, should accomplish that purpose in this fleeting abode and work our hardest so we can enjoy our fruits in the hereafter; no questions asked.

 وَالْآخِرَةُ عِندَ رَبِّكَ لِلْمُتَّقِينَ

“..And the Hereafter with your Lord is for the righteous.” 

{az-Zukhruf}

I see beauty in my scars.

 

 


Beauty.. I’ve thought about this long and hard and arrived at the following conclusion:

Beauty is what I see with my eyes, not what the world defines for me.

I see beauty in a heart that is shattered, broken, and yet beats with undying hope and faith.

I see beauty in a child’s hand reaching out instinctively for its parent for security.

I see beauty in the tears a daughter sheds for her  parents, the depth of love her heart holds for them and how it aches with the realization that some day she will have to part from them..

I see  beauty in a woman’s inherent desire for a child despite her barrenness.. And how her eyes sparkle with tears as she glances at a mother walking her baby in a stroller.

I see beauty in the brave soul that picks up its broken pieces after falling at every fork in the road and continues to walk with its head held up high, taking challenges head on — without waver or even the slightest sense of defeat.

I see beauty in my scars.