You were a Hidden Treasure,
And created creation for Your Pleasure,
For You wanted to be found.

And though too small for You is Infinite Space,
Yet in the pauper's heart You say there's place;
So of Yourself a measure,
You buried in my heart's ground.

But myself has built such mountains tall,
And carved such valleys and chasms withal,
That are girded all around
With seventy thousand veils I've strung,
And seventy thousand more I hung
With each one I tore down.
 
Now I must unfound
The mountains with my nails
And rung by rung the veils,
To beat a path to that hallowed ground
 Where You're waiting to be found.

Swimming in the Mystic's litanies
Drinking from the wine of Divine Love in the ocean of epiphanies

Salvation and sanctification, paths not found through me
A guiding Way led only by The One, transcendent is He!

The Creator, The Unique, placed in the Chosen One an eye to see
The Light bestowed through he who ascended on the luminous steed
It is for you oh seeker, established by the Decree!

So be not fooled by the modern's dead heart,
One hardened and extinguished by spiritual sobriety,
One finished without a new start

And flee from the one that materialism seizes
He is mired in its teases, veiled by insidious spiritual diseases

For The One, beyond limits, cannot be fathomed
Nor sought without a soul outstretched, ransomed

So swim in the ocean that contains no shores,
Be soothed by its waves that cause no sores

Cry a mighty thanks and weep in fear, it is a must, as the end nears
Let pour and be not ashamed of your abundant tears,
For it is a shame that one squanders her Ramadan in these waning years

God bless him and give him peace! Ya Lateef!

The power of its might
Makes the tide rise and fall,
Makes an Ummah strong and tall,
Be crushed from the bickering and the fights.

Such a small fragment
Squint to make it appear before your eyes,
Even upon the clear skies.
What a heavy message it presents....

The noor of this tiny sliver,
Fills the body and the soul,
Tames the wildest of Mongols:
A brook from a mighty river.

Oh Napolean of the sky!
It is you that causes us to abstain,
In order for us to attain,
The power to praise that which we cannot deny: His existence.

Bridge over, over water, water over, over land, land over, over rock over
molt.
Simple earth, simple sky, under emptiness. emptiness so complex.
complexity's domain is the mind, where narration cannot succeed and
confusion runs free, "shadow thinking" stealing efforts, what a pain.
Where are the 'real' feelings, thoughts and collections? where are these
gems to be found. And why do those with this luxury not share what they
found.

What of those who fell in the water, what of those lost, parting with all
sound? How free are you, not acknowledging that which watches over you,
there is no bliss in this ignorance, no faith in its shroud. gentle clouds
roam over you, chatting about the sweetness in the morning freshness,
with those breezes from the sea, what do you see?

you have been given a choice, now use it to suppress the black and release
that which is easy, that which is light. what of the seagulls in flight, what
of them who flow without choice? There are things which you cannot see,
there will always be such a set, and you shall not pass a stage, set before
time. Hence remove yourself of this ego, the conscious synonym for
arrogance, that in which the dark bathes in opulence.
   

Pain, ridiculous pain,
shadows never moved
depression never strayed
often coming twice in the same moment
faces all at once in my head
all summing up to deep sadness
no meaning or satisfaction
with no need for material
a failed dependence on the transitory
a mind deluded from the truth
from the acceptance of the eternal
held away from purity at the cost of sanity
a near miss every time or so it seems

change is hard
so far just sweet talk and minor issues
so far just fulfiling niceties
now the reality is clear, and
the alterations to be done are obvious
much sacrifice is involved, of lifestyle
of friends, culture, worldy ambitions
but the call is near, the call from inside the earth
but the confidence is low, all that was affirmed by tongue
were just of tongue that connected not with the heart
the walk is not being walked and cannot be walked
the role that is, was not. it was just talk
the truth that was, was only felt on the shallow
the depths are asleep and with the fruits of my life
what a waste of time this life is if in such a state

heart must be cleansed, with rough, and without reserve
mind must be strengthened with patience and calm
time must be watched by the hawk, frenzied by its focus
prayers guarded like entrances to unimaginable treasure
"friends" and colleagues kept far from the senses
but the eternal, the best of friends, in his glory,
kept occupying all limbs of the unseen and limbs of action
And this system in use must be veiled like the jewels,
as though this knowledge is medicine,
the knowledge of its knowledge is the cancer of desires.