Forgiveness

Sometimes forgiving is easier then remembering the pain. Sometimes letting go is better then holding on and moving forward is better then living in the past. Running away isn’t always the right option but removing yourself from the situation is always your decision.

Forgive friend so you maybe forgiven

Love so you can love yourself,

Make the choice and start afresh,

For tomorrow is never promised.

Praise is only for today.

Revitalize

Revitalize

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Beloved

Eyes moist with tears and a heart pained through longing.

Footprints mark the lands; trodden bare foot. Throats parched with thirst, hands risen in hope; the sweetness of the struggle dancing on dry lips.

The seeking of the Beloved, is the path to the meeting; yearning through a desire.

A love, only eternal.

Separation from the beloved is not possible.
Lovers don’t just meet. Their within each other all along.

Beyond Faults

Love beyond all faults, My friend.
Who knows which one of your faults, may turn the Beloveds face away from you?

So remember, to Love beyond all faults,
for only Love can teach and Mercy can rectify.

Live in His spirit,
Love beyond all faults.
My friend,
you were once lost too.

The Passionate Woman

Feel blessed to be a woman of passion

A passionate woman. 
A woman who feels and hears.

A woman who cries from her soul and laughs from her breast,
Full of joy and love. 

A giving woman. 
A kind woman. 
A woman not afraid of her mistakes. 

A woman God has blessed time and time again.
An Imperfect woman,
Who is proud of her blessings

Rejoice in the passion he has given you. 

The feeling of feeling passionate about something or someone is a feeling not everyone is blessed with…
The ultimate aim is to achieve that everlasting passion…To feel the نور (light) entering the breast. 

Don’t be Afraid
Embrace it.

We are Passionate Women.

 

Tree of Life – SHE

SHE.

She, looked at her familiar surroundings, sighed and sat down, cross legged, tired limbs, puffy eyes, ragged skin.
No. This can’t be it.

She, picking up her pen and deep rooted notebook, sighed and starting writing; fragmented thoughts, disjointed puzzles, unanswered questions.
No. This can’t be it.

She, torn between half smiles and those half frozen tears; laughs.
No. This can’t be it.

The tree has deep rooted veins, the golden veins bulge on the cover, a backdrop of long brown winters.

The tree, has branches and leafs.
They begin to fall, scattering the brown earth like stars in the dark sky.
Her golden feathers crumble to the ground.

No. This can’t be it.

She, sits staring at her leafless tree, sighs and puts the pen down.

No. This can’t be it…

The roots don’t budge,
but
The branches still grow,
Seasons change,
Life once more takes ITs form.

She, sitting cross legged, tired to the bone; rejoices and quietly cries.
See, this is IT….

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Seeking

Seeking alone is not enough,

One must search through his yearning –

For the Beloved is shy,

Like the wind you feel but cannot see.

 

“Assalatu khayrum minan naum” الصلاة خير من النوم

“Assalatu khayrum minan naum

الصلاة خير من النوم

Why do you not hear the Beloveds call?

When He found you lost and guided you.

He found you broken and saved you.

He found you alone and befriended you.

He found you hurt and healed you.

He found you each and every time, by calling you:

“Assalatu khayrum minan naum

الصلاة خير من النوم

Why do you not hear the Beloved call?

Has your heart become so attached to the sounds of this Earth,

 that you do not hear the soft tone, of The One.

The Earth spinning on its axis hears His call,

the Sun that rises in the east and sets in the west hears His call,

the Moon taking over at night hears His call,

each rushing to obey swiftly, at His Call.

Yet you do not hear the Beloveds call.

Why has your heard hardened to the Call of the Beloved?

“Assalatu khayrum minan naum

الصلاة خير من النوم

 Come, Come, lets go Home.

Beloved

Why has your heart hardened to the call of the Beloved?

Do you not hear the calling at dawn?

The birds chirping, singing the Beloveds song,

the trees swaying, bowing down at every call.

Why have your eyes veiled to the beauty of the Beloved?

Do you not see the shining of the stars that scatter the night sky?

The leafs that change colour, at their set time,

the rain that pours down, giving way to life.

Why has your heart hardened to the call of the Beloved?

The one who made love, gives love and is loved.

Why has your heart hardened to the call of the Beloved?

Are you not in Love?

SHE: On Love

SHE

She, never taught me On Love.

She, working her fingers to the bone each day,

rubbing her feet at night, alone, in the dark,

crying, aching, bruised and estranged.

She, never taught me On Love.

How could SHE?

She, who was sacrificing her rights, each and every day,

never allowed to feel the real beauty of her own laugh, 

She, never taught me On Love.

But really, how could SHE?

Never knowing herself, who to ask.

She, never asking, never questioning, always believing, always, it’s a Farce!

SHE – who never taught me On Love,

still struggling each day, still crying, alone, in the dark.

I tried telling her,

“Listen! Swollen ankles cannot be worked with broken hands.”

But Still. 

She, She never taught me On Love.
“No Stop! Listen, how could I really?”

 SHE, she said, never taught me On Love.

She Said, I Prefer A Broken Neck-Amir Sulaiman

She said that she would prefer a broken neck to another broken heart.
I said “Remember, even the beauty of birth leaves its own scars
And know that you will find your home right where you are.” She said, “I know it sounds cliche, but I really am just waiting to exhale.”
She’s not looking for a perfect man, she ain’t holding out for Denzel
She’s just looking for a real man,
But she said “Most of the realest were in graves or in jail”
Just an upright brother, but she’s left with low down brothers, homo thugs, and downlow brothers.
And it took her some time with herself to discover
That having love is even more important than having a lover
But what am I supposed to tell her?
That it’s going to be okay? But it may not be.
It may be hard and ugly,
Difficult, complicated, rough and bloody
And I said, “So many women are struggling”
She said, “Yeah, I’d like a man to kiss me, I’d like a man to hug me
But he’s gotta truly love love before he can truly love me”
I said, “I feel you.” She said, “No, you’re not feeling me.
We are women bringing up seeds,
Our own sons grow up thinking love is a disease
Ducking and dodging real relationships, and just gonna take what they please
And they treat pregnancy like it’s an STD
If the test comes back positive, it’s a negative
And they are ghost in the streets,
Drunk in the wind, only a moment is spent and those moments are brief
Our sons’ role models are rolling stones unknown or deceased
They figure we can’t teach them manhood, so they’ll get grown in the streets
So in the cold world they find warmth with the men holding the heat.
“I said “There’s gotta be a change.”
She said, “Yeah, it’s gotta be more than poems on TV”
I said, “I feel you.” She asked me how I survive.
I said, “By Allāh, it was my mother otherwise
I would have been dead, crazy, institutionalized.”
“She kept us in the good neighborhoods, even though she couldn’t keep on the lights
So we could go to the best schools learning to read and to write.
Sometimes we’d be so broke, in the store, she’d have to pick between the beans and the rice.
Sometimes she’d put ketchup on a navy bean so it wouldn’t seem like we’re eating the same thing every night.
Two jobs during the day, and one at night.
And the stuff I saw her endure, I never wanna see my wife [endure] So I know being a man is more than being male, and I’m focused on doing it right.”
“But when I think about my childhood, I don’t think about poverty
I remember how she hugged me, kissed me, taught me, loved me.
And I know you prefer a broken neck to another broken heart
Broken parts that litter the night sky like stars.
But remember, even the beauty of birth leaves its own scars
And know that you will find your home, right where you are
We will find our homes right where we are.”
~ Amir Sulaiman

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