Eloquent Impressions

Count me amongst the lovers

The ones who feed each other

Soul provisions.

Those who provide spiritual shelter for their brothers.

Create union instead of division.

reflecting on all signs and symbols.

Enumerating blessings

Count me amongst the learned

The knowledgeable

not burdened by this thankless life

Count me amongst the freedom fighters

human writers

Imprinters of the righteous.

Count me amongst those who forbid evil and enjoin that which is good.

Those that sit under God’s shade

recline under stars and sing praise,

rotate beads over one elegant phrase;

ya Allah.

Sing with joy to a Lord that raises

the heavens and parts the sea.

Count me amongst the travellers and the strangers

carrying luggage of love

and backpacks of devotion

Those who are strong

mentally

and physically show mercy

Those that wander the sarat almustaqeem.

that seek,

to complete their deen.

Beam noor that peaks

and covers

more than first seems

Improvers of character

removers of shrouds

Articulate through hearts

Resonate within souls

Converse without sound

Lose control

for He who has all control.

Faith in the Sustainer

Belief in the Retainer

99 honeyed names on their tongues

tasting syrupy on willing lips

Repeated again and again

until spirits slip

into oblivion and beat magnificently loud.

Count me as one of the lovers

Alone in a crowd

scattering kindness

sharing generously

with sincere intentions

and earnest mentions

of the last prophet saw

Those that practice all they preach

And absorb all that they teach

and see wisdom in all trails

and trials

Until all paths are connected

and all pathways reach

to the Creator.

Until there is no resistance and all is accepted

until hearts are open and receptive

Count me, ya Allah.

Please.

By Y.B

Eager to complete my deen,

want to reach the highest version

of my being.

And feel close to the Supreme

and be immersed in dreams

of a prophet kind and serene

and elevate my soul higher than it ever

seemed

possible.

And I want to feel the improbable

beg mystics to take me in

and share secrets dissolvable

into my conscious.

Sit under stars and sing praises,

rotate beads over elegant phrases,

sing with joy to a Lord that raises

the heavens and splits the moon.

I will be there soon,

as a servant of Allah,

and a maid of muses.

When I complete my deen,

He will be my witness.

And as much as it amuses,

the truth of the matter is

I am simply seeking God’s shade

and hoping to find it wherever I lay

with a husband who dares to break barriers

and finds His truth in rhymes and uses

it to take our love to a plane far higher than

a lust between mere humans.

I need to feel His mercy,

showering love that may allow me to feel worthy.

And I pray that I can pray

when the time comes

with enough love on my tongue

for the ones that came before me

and set a precedent for which I am certainly not worthy.

Heart sinking at the question.

Tired of the pretension

of this life

and ready to step into the next dimension

where I will find salvation

in His compassion

and wisdom.

Feed my soul seeds of something,

beautiful and tender,

and surrender

myself as whole

to complete my deen.

By Y.B