Al-Zalzala

The voice of a day
That in silence follows
The misdirections of clay
Watching it play to its woes

Vibrant warnings hang
A message pinned all around
In ignorance bite they their hand
Rather than listen to truth expound

Would that she could cry
And they hear her voice
Quit her her silent spy
Awaken her lost boys

Older she grow
Wretched bent three
Spinning to age old
Unheard her silent weep

Al-Zalzala
Will come the day
Your speech heard near and far
As witness to mankind's sway

Deeds unveiled
Virtuous or otherwise
An atom's weight
Your word would suffice

Patience
The promised day arrives
Written is the covenant
As sure as the sun will rise

Mother

Mother. She is the one I can't do without. The person blessed with the gift of love, care, concern and selflessness like no other person has. The only person other than God Almighty who could possibly understand me better than anyone else.

Much is the sacrifice she's made for me in past, present and future. Lessons learnt, wisdom earned and wealth obtained all thanks to her.

What have I done in return for all her kindness?

Oh would that all the treasures of the world would be enough. Sad to say many times of that would be the gift she's given me. Far beyond is the price of my being. Of that guidance that through her I have received.

Oh the guardian of heaven's gate on earth, the holder of my heart; Blessed be your soul.

Beauty Blind

Splashes of color
Upon the white winter
That runs icy chill
Blotting out human feels

The wonderland lived
By freedom's weave
Put in blatant sight
By reflections bright

Thrust in and drugged
Dulled by weights lugged
None could have noticed
How slipped away peace

Paleness is gone
Left the colorful morn
A multitude hues
From red all to blues

In the dreamy spray
Of butterfly splay
Forgotten is whiteness
That once marked pureness

That cold winter chill
Of emptiness' hill
Carpeted by grass
A heaven meant not to last

Run through the fields
Up and down hills
Lost in the joy
Of temporary ploy

Till comes darkness' end
In the grip of one hand
To rip you back
To the white winter black

The Druid - #5

The wait was intense. Each passing moment brought with it more worry as the stomps of the giant lumbering undead echoed louder in the air.

A grievous low moan thrummed across the shrinking miles, dragging with it the foul stench of decay. The trees shivered and anxious animals screeched and howled their fears.

"Death has reared its ugly face. Aid me great winds." The elf pointed at the looming giant approaching his grove. The creature's features could be made out vaguely under the light of the evening sun: A black mask of death void of everything but hatred and unbridled thirst for destruction.

A slight breeze began to blow through the land, steadily growing into a screaming gale. Flecks of tiny snow crept into the winds, lending a bone-biting chill to the forceful hurricane the druid had summoned.

He stood still as the stone guardians he had summoned forth from the earth, watching the hurricane turn into a snowstorm. The giant undead figure waded into the wall of whiteness, disappearing from view. But its echoing footsteps continued to drum upon the earth, though at a noticeably slower pace.

The elf druid sighed. He knew that the snowstorm would not be enough to stop the creature, but at least it would buy them some time. He looked up. Grey clouds were slowly gathering. Just a little bit more time.

Wild birds and beasts began to gather at the edge of the woods. Wolves sat and waited, necks scruffed and noses scrunched. Bears growled and dug into the ground with their huge claws. Snakes coiled in the trees hissed anticipation of the upcoming battle. Not a single animal from the woods had ignored the call of its guardian.

A slight grim smile crept into the elf druid's face. Now all that's left to hope for is that the winds and storms heeded his call just as well.

Another low moan reverberated in the air, louder and heavier this time. The elf felt a supernaturally cold, mind-numbing fear grip his heart. Tears trickled down his cheek as the steel set resolve in his eyes began to falter. The moan continued.

"May the lady's grace save us all." He whispered under his breath as he slowly backed away a step at a time. Fear threatened to overcome him, slowly building itself up into a torrent.

A familiar nudge upon his leg snapped him out of the creature's baleful spell.

He looked down into the eyes of his companion, and knelt by the wolf's side.

"Thank you dear friend. You've been like a brother to me. I fret that we may not be able to see another moon rise together after this battle is over. May we meet again in the lady's grove." He wrapped his arms around the wolf's neck in a warm embrace.

A low rumble shook the skies followed by the loud crack of lightning. The elf stood from the embrace, his cold steely resolve and unreadable iron mask returned to his features.

"Our lady's blessings have been granted upon us." He raised a hand and a series of loud booms and cracks shook the air as streaks of searing white lightning tore the dark storm clouds that had gathered overhead only to be swallowed back into the greyness.

The animals around him broke into cheers at the signs of the blessings that they had seen.

Now, they were ready.

#4<<

Rain

In the mist
Of distance grown
That blessing on lease
Of which none own

Born over seas
Carried upon winds
The mimic of bees
Upon diving stings

That pitter-patter
Of overgrown droplets
That which wash over
Dead deserts

Which follows the wind
As commanded thus
By decree as always been
Bringing life to dust

Heavy as stone
Or light as air
Under mature core
Does trees grow fair

Gray haze
Crystal blessings
Notice through the maze
And His call will surely ring

Attachment and Detachment

Attachment leads to suffering - So does the teachings of Buddhism preach. So too are most of us inclined to agree. But how true is this?

We can't possibly live alone now can we? How do we exist independently of any form of attachment?

On what ground will you stand if you separate yourself from the world? Of course, in order to transcend this world, you need to break free of this world's ties to yourself.

Suffering is an inescapable truth of being alive. Every living being suffers. Feeling that pain which seeps into their hearts from loss and sadness; from failure and incapacity.

Thus the logic should apply that without attachment that generates these emotions, one should be safe from suffering. How true is this?

A kind of peace that is achieved by detachment from your current life rooted so by your subsistences.

Can you do without riches?
Of course you can.

Can you do without fame?
Of course you can.

Can you do without God?
...

Can you exist without a Creator? How far can you remove yourself from Him? That attachment leads to suffering is a truth in itself. But can detachment solve that problem? Will removal of the self from this material and highly physical existence save you from pain?

What we speak of is an inhuman contemplation in itself. The transcendence and One-ness that Buddhism speaks of could only be achieved by shedding a part of your humanity.

Which part you ask?

The part that cares. If you care not what happens believing that the flow of the universe is inevitable and you understand that all things must come to an end, then you may achieve transcendence. When you release yourself from worldly desires and seek deeper understanding of the scriptures, then will you achieve transcendence. Seek the Way to One-ness with the universe.

As being living in this universe itself, aren't we already a part of it? Aren't we like the blood that flows within the veins of this universe that we live in? Isn't that the source of our attachment?

In what other ways can we transcend? Mentally? Spiritually? How far should we go then before we transcend?

And if the atheist Buddhist says, there is no infinitely powerful and everlasting God who determines all things and created everything around us, who decides when we've transcended enough? Is there a mark to be reached or a limit to be found is not that limit set by someone? By who?

How do you or the universe itself exist without God to create you? By cutting yourself off from attachment to all things worldly, what have you devoted yourselves to? Emptiness?

Thus you've decided to leave behind an existence filled with much gifts for an existence totally empty and meaningless? Detach yourself from all things that you may attain a kind of nothingness called Nirvana. Peace. All this can be achieved without God?

We all develop that belief that attachment leads to suffering because we grow connected to things that are temporary. The natural flow of the world eventually takes away what's been given to us. What hurts us the most is not the attachment itself; Rather, it's the loss of that which binds.

Can we truly exist without any attachment?

If we chose to direct ourselves in the path of removal, will we ever succeed?

Why not attach ourselves to a Being Eternal and All-Powerful instead?

Is it easier to believe in an existence without a Creator filled by a void compared to believing in God?

Change

The change you see
Announced to be not me
Renouncing it
Calling it an ugly piece

You hate it
Called it fake
But the truth is that
In so doing it's me you hate

Be it so bad
This change you not accept
Pushing me aside
Calling me a stranger inside

How different I become
Is not the point
What triggered your alarm
That has me disjoint

Why hate me so
When goodness is all I show
Is it goodness you despise
Or my actions to you but lies

Can you not see
Extend vision beyond your misery
For intend not I to befriend
One who accepts not who I am

Let go of the past
This change must I make to last
Till death in this way
Redemption for sins of past days

Accept me and my words
Return not to me but with kind words
I wish for you only Peace
Hoping for you guidance through your tears

Giving

In giving is there much to be received. The most important of which is peace of mind.

The material world we live in is by nature fluid and ever changing. All of it is in a constant state of motion and phasement. Money earned is then spent. Favors made later repaid. Work done rewarded.

Yet how much of our material possessions do we carry to our graves? Will that car be useful for travel when you're dead? Are cosmetics and adornments any good in that grave? Will all your money pay for your afterlife? Does our insurance extend past our point of death? Obviously much of what we use and chase after now will one day be useless when we pass on from this life into the next.

Our wordly life is much like circus tokens; only worthwhile as long as we stay in that circus. Once you leave it'll all be for naught.

Matters not how much treasures you've gathered; It will all leave someday. Hoarding it will do little good for you. There is little use in wealth unspent and treasures sealed away.

Dare you keep all the gifts of God hoarded up for yourself when you need them not?

Many are the poor in this world. But a small amount of your wealth would be enough to make them happy. Enough for a loaf of bread to silence their rumbling stomachs; of a bottle of water to quench parched throats.

Yet...You need a new handphone because your current one is out of date? Or a new dress because the old is out of fashion? New shoes simply because there's a new design out in stores?

Do we really need all these things?

Then comes the question of what you gain from giving. Would you accept it if you gain absolutely nothing in return for giving to others?

If no, why not?

Again comes the question of how much we earn that follows us to our graves. Of the material absolutely nothing.

Then again, why give it when they themselves cannot bring the material to their graves either right? All that you give will be but a material and temporary joy for them too.

If you agree to the above said statement, then perhaps you know not the true meaning of thankfulness and gratefulness.

Starve yourself for a day or two, then break your fast with a slice of bread and a cup of water. Savor each bite and sip.

When you've realized how great a blessing each bite and sip is, you'll understand. And if you remember how it feels to be deprived of those gifts, you'll understand why you need to give.

Aisha(r.a) recounted that someone had presented the gift of a lamb to the Messenger of Allah(s.a.w). He distributed the meat. Aisha(r.a) said, "Only the neck is left for us."

The Prophet(s.a.w) replied "No. All of it is left for us except the neck."

What did he mean by that? Haply it is time for us to reflect.

It is the nature of existence to move on in its cycles. If we stop the flow of things by hoarding the gifts of God to the world, we merely cause chaos with our greed and selfishness.

It is about time that we begin to give. Is it not?

Liar

Smoke streaming through
Past hands that cannot grasp
Would that I was you
Tiny little short lived wasp

I'd understand what you not see
That has screened you blind
Be what you may be
Breeding poison killing your kind

Sacrifice would you your own
For hurting my self
Drifting lost in smoke blown
Trying to lure me in stealth

Do you not fear the fire
Forewarned have you been
Yet you answer my calls in ire
Even after all that you've seen

Cease and desist
Time still is in your hands
Why continue to resist
Losing in smoking lands

There is no escape
But the way that's been shown
It hasn't been too late
Your soul has yet to be sown

I reach once more to you
My hopes and prayers made
That shown with light the road to truth
The smoke lifted in your soul's aid

Leave your ways
If evil intent
In the way of praise
And for all repent

Karma

Whatever good happens to you is from Allah; But whatever evil happens to you is from your (own) soul

- Al-Quran 4:79

Men say we get what we deserve. But to what degree does this truth extend?

Wallahua'llam.

People; Many people suffer. Live we in constant toil. That darkness robs us of our sight for goodness bestowed is a real danger.

Look you in times of darkness to the silver linings behind the clouds. In your distress search for the tiniest blessings in your life and be thankful for it.

Even in the worst of times God grants you His gifts. Such is the way of Allah; The Almighty; The Beneficent and Merciful.

Are you grateful?

Many are the complaints as well as improvements we wish could be made of our lives.

"Would that I was rich."

"If I only knew."

"Had I only been elsewhere."

"This cannot be happening."

"Why me?"

"If only I were dead."

"How long will this go on?"

And the list goes on. Questioning the Divine Decree and the fairness of God's choices.

Would that you saw His gifts to you.

The passing day and night, every breath that leaves you, every beat in your breast and every sight and sound you draw in.

Many are His gifts.

Yet all we see is suffering. For Man is born weak.

We make mistakes. We sin. With each step we take we taint the earth we step on. Of our own accord or by mistake. Darkening our lives with our mistakes just as how we darkened Hajjar Aswad with our constant kissing of it. How a stone white and pure as milk could turn ebony as night.

Rightly so it is that we have to pay for our mistakes. Can we say that the punishment befits not the crime? That we now suffer more than we should or deserve to?

Nay! For God is Kind and Fair. Wise. The world has He created with a harmony that runs smoother than clockwork.

Be thankful oh servant of God! Be not a pessimist or a disbeliever.

All ah gives you everything. Throw nothing. Cherish.

There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so

- William Shakespeare

Journey

The vultures' circle
That slowly drift
Warning the closeness
Of deathly lease

Crossing alone
That desert span
In hunger and thirst
Of the scorching sand

The dark flaps of wings
Desperately close
Lurk the wind carried
Tasting untouched cold

Break! Shout they
Calling to fall
Break! Shout they
In their wild festive thrall

Will you lose all hope
In the face of death
Or fill you in need
Of the oasis the vultures fret?

The Odd

The odd; always stands out in a crowd.

The strange; is most noticeable when coupled with the normal.

The extraordinary; far outshines all else when it is in sight.

Would you like to be odd?

Would you like to be strange?

Would you like to be extraordinary?

Is there a difference between the odd, the strange and the extraordinary?

Is a person born with a long tail odd, strange or extraordinary?

What about a man dressed as a clown?

Or a person with twelve toes?

Would you call a person who can lift a truck odd, strange or extraordinary?

What if a person was capable of flight without wings or machines? What would you call him then?

Can you actually be odd without being strange or extraordinary; or vice versa? Can you be one of them without being the other two?

Verily God loves the odd.

But really, what is odd? How do we judge it? How does God judge it?

He is Al-Badi(The Incomparable) and Al-Alim(The All-Knowing).

What do you think? Is there anyone among us now who is odd? Or are we all in one way or another odd ourselves?

Wallahua'llam

Heavenly Words

A phrase or two
Verses a dozen
Pictures glued
Upon scriptly heaven

Painted words
Lose not the touch
Gathered herds
In graceful march

Such greatness created
Language the form
Penned is all that's fated
Every rain and storm

Beauty wrapped
In whiteness and ink
With but imagination to trap
A world filled to the brink

Read! Says the angel
By God read!
Therein is the worlds
Knowledge buried in a seed

For purer still
The ink of a scholar
As to blood spilt
By a martyr in war

Life comes from...

The riddle of life is something that seems rather close to impossible to solve. Why do people keep on trying to?

From Socrates to Plato, Einstein to Newton, Scientists and philosophers alike work their hearts and minds out pondering the goings ons around them in a bid to understand our existence.

Where did we come from? And how did we get to where we are now?

When asked what life is, differing answers may turn up. What does it mean to be living?

Darwinism rests upon the belief that all things evolved.

Different religions describe the creation of mankind in different ways.

Then there's a select few that ponder the possibility that man was an experiment by alien beings. Thus making life a giant experiment?

Evolution or creation - divine or otherwise - often brings to mind that all life has a beginning. Beyond that, all life is also determined to have an end.

So these two are the most common traits held by all things that live.

What other traits are there? Breathing? Sustenance? Consciousness? Is that it?

Is that all being alive is about? Have we solved the riddle of life?

Life has a beginning and an end. We judge something alive if it breathes, requires sustenance and is endowed with consciousness.

Where does consciousness come from?

If a creature need not breath or eat, but could talk and move, we won't say that it's alive. Doesn't that make consciousness the most important of all factors in deciding whether or not someone or thing is alive?

So where does life albeit consciousness come from?

Imprisonment

Touch of the wind
The smell of the earth
Not to mention traces
Of summer blooms diverse

In the smell of life
I hunger for death
Dreaming of dreams
Unfulfilled by time

This embrace so material
Threatens to tie me down
As I soar upon the wings of an eagle
I named my Thoughts Profound

Where I lose the way
Consumed by lust
I beg for a break
For these wings will not last

Temptations abound
In forms invisible
Forging webs of string
With tendrils unbreakable

The satisfaction of food
Of refreshing drink
Pleasures ecstatic
That blind and mislead

All that lures me
To darkness infinity
Threatens to drown
The light I now see

Will it fade
Or the road disappear
As the world creeps up
Covering my ears

The frightful colors
Lovely foreboding flair
Confuse and bewilder
And blind with glare

Oh to be lost
In soiled embrace
Mother earth caught me
In her devilish embrace

Disillusioned now
Sitting with wings ripped
Crooning over moments
That will one day leave

Forgetting the eternal
Letting the everlasting leave
Thinking self free
When truly being caged

The Mute

They jeered and reprimanded him. Making faces and rude gestures at him. And all he did was smile and walk away.

Crazy they called him. His only answer to them was that same silent smile.

His life was simple. Routine. Work, eat, pray, sleep. And in the midst of it, be maltreated by each and every single person in the village.

He did it all with a smile.

His presence was to them an abomination. The sight of him irked them. Roused their anger and made them sick to their stomachs. He was disgusting; to them at least.

One day, their patience wore out and his presence finally became unbearable. They ran him out of the village.

This too, he did with a smile.

Months passed and he lived out in the wild alone, building a small garden for food and cottage for shelter.

There-in he lived, with birds for company and animals for friends. His smile received by the creatures of the woods with warmth and joy.

One fine afternoon, while he was busy preparing a meal for himself and the little squirrel that lived in the tree nearby, there came a knock on the door.

Opening the cottage door, he was greeted by the sight of a ragged, starved, teary-eyed little girl.

"Oh please, please sir could you let me in? I'm hungry and I'm lost. I've been in the woods a very long time and I'm tired." said the little girl in between her sobbing.

The man smiled and nodded, ushering her in. She rushed in happily, taking a quick glance around the little cottage and setting herself down swiftly by the cosy little fire at the corner of the hut.

Beaming as he always did, he walked over to the fire and took the ready porridge and poured it into a clay bowl, then setting it in front of the girl.

Not a second was lost as she pounced on the meal and gobbled it up greedily. Such a mess she made as she stuffed herself with as much food as her mouth would allow without choking.

As he made his way for the door, she turned to him and said, "Can I have the rest?"

Smiling once more, he simply nodded before leaving the cottage to go to the tree nearby; nuts in hand.

Years passed and the lost little girl chose to stay with him. They worked to build a separate room for her.

Time flew by, him with his constant smiles and nods, and she with her endless talks and laughter.

A number of times she asked, "Why don't you talk? Are you mute?" He would shake his head in answer and smile each time.

The question plagued her and she continued to badger him till he finally gave in and said only one word.

"God."

His answer puzzled her even more. "You're God?" she asked.

He shook his head and smiled. As she had done before, she pestered him till he finally gave in.

He brought her to a huge lake deep in the woods. Sparkling waters surrounded by lush greenery and decorated by the flight of beautiful parakeets and jaysand their endless songs. It was a serenity like she had never seen before.

He pointed at the birds and smiled. Then he said it again.

"God."

The birds continued their singing and flew.

"That's God?" asked the little girl.

"No." He answered.

"That's what they're singing. Praises to God for His Mercy and His Kindness. Praises to the Almighty Lord of the Worlds." Continued the man smiling from ear to ear.

The answer stunned her. Before she could think up a reply, he continued. "I have nothing more to say. Only that."

With that, he smiled and walked away. Leaving a very stunned girl to listen to the tweeting of the birds.

My Love/ My Friend

So far away
You're standing there
Will you come back
Oh please be mine

We're too far apart
We two were never meant
Not meaning to break your heart
But I've found me a man

Be this true
Truly he the one for you
Must this be so
For me to see you go

I'll still be here
As friends we'll stay
Do not fear
One for you will come someday

So who is he
That's caught your eye
Hope he be good
Better than I

He is special
Kind and good
A man who's touched me
In ways none could

Then I am lost
For your light is gone
But I hope still you're happy
With him who has won

Say not such
It pains me to see you so
I'll still be here
That you should know

I am aware
Your kindness bright, fair
To still be there to show you care
My love

Always speaking of me highly
Comparing to the stars
But I'm not all you say
I'm but a woman with a heart

But to me you are the sun
That light I adore
Now won by right
By another soul

There are better
One who'll care for you
In ways I never could
Trust me you must do

I do
My love
I do
My love

Take care
Dear friend
Take care
Dear friend

Ever Wondered?

Fate. In whose hands does yours rest upon?

Can you read your future?

Can you or anyone else for that matter change it?

Or does fate even exist? What proof do we have of the existence of predestination?

Have you ever wondered?

The Moon, My Queen, Forsooth

Would I compare you
To that silver unreachable
Afloat in the sky
The vestibule of my love

T'would be unfair
For your radiance outshines
With beauty unearthly
Etched in rimes

In the phases that fade
Markings upon dates
Lingers you alone
Brightly wrapped in mind

Tapered to reality
None could break free
But for the sight of angels
On earthly dwells grace

Such as you
I have not seen
But in dreamy sights
Saturate oh dancing queen

That sauntering beau
Whose name's not forgot
By the day that accrue
Drawn heart and thought

One to be waned
Calling to be needed
A love undaunted
By that shine of sultriness

Linger on in the skies
Beyond touch, in view
Lain claim by a king
As is properly due

Truth

Tis' easy to understand and say
That truth in the end does have its way
Unwinding tales spun by men
Through events unfolded as none can

Would such power exist to make
That none can lie in his own wake
Can we live without deceit
And show the darkness that each does reek

Naked then will we stand
Showing our hearts upon a hand
To be read by all who see
In the skies of truth set free

No more masks behind to hide
In sadness no longer smiles as wide
Truth renowned for harshness sake
May in truth chaos make

For shadows must exist in light
Somethings must remain twilight
Grayness makes for much freedom
Somethings are hidden in much wisdom

Should we call for truth-filled world
For one such as that can much unfurl
To make for each much discourse
Of right and wrong to be divorced