Fear.

Fear.
It gnaws at my throat, gripping, grabbing, ripping and clenching.
Tightening my wind pipes, squeezing my breath, I look round hoping it won’t come to collect.
Collecting my hopes, my dreams, my love for you; it never left, it’s residue lingering on the fringes of my faith, I cry in anxiety, calling out to God. Free me, hold me, keep me close, don’t let him take me and don’t let him collect.
The dark place.
That place where the soul lingers, gasping for light, seeking its might.

Don’t let it collect; remaining fragments of love, hope and years of ache, the small pieces of glass, broken, some mended, always cracked.
Don’t collect.
Fear, how real a transformation of the abstract.

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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.

 

Rest in Peace – Maya Angelou 1928 – 2014 – A truly ‘Phenomenal woman’

“Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size   
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,   
The stride of my step,   
The curl of my lips.   
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,   
That’s me.

 

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,   
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.   
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.   
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,   
And the flash of my teeth,   
The swing in my waist,   
And the joy in my feet.   
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.

 

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

 

Men themselves have wondered   
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,   
They say they still can’t see.   
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,   
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

 

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.   
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.   
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,   
The bend of my hair,   
the palm of my hand,   
The need for my care.   
’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.”

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.

Miracle

Image

 

I never imagined, to be,

One of those, who preach,

I never thought I would see,

The beauty of your love, so clearly,

I always hoped but never believed,

Miracles were always for the weak.

Now, years later I can perceive,

The irrationality of my old futile creed.

Now, years later, I know I bear witness, to You,

The One and Only.

My everything.

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.

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