mona

w w w . m o n a h a y d a r . c o m

upon impact

It seems like just yesterday when I lamented at Ramadan coming to a close, and now here I am- at the almost half way mark of a new Rama[dawn] (get it? man. oh man. I’m punny! ha! okay, dork alert. whatever.)

The emptying process of the heart is hard. I’m listening for the whispers of how to continue – the how to keep going. inspiration.

It feels like a big ice cream scooper has been taken to my insides. a really big one. scooping it all out. scraping out all the edges – all the nooks and crannies.

Allah has said be-
and so I am.

and now it feels like I hear:
be nothing. no one.
to become everything- everyone.

I’ve stopped swimming.
I’ve given up floating.
I am deep sea diving.
dangerously driven and oxygen deprived-
to reach…
the water.
to be close to the water.
to become water.
the goal is where I already am.


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One Comment

  1. hana Horack says:

    Thank you for your beautiful poems. Here is one of mine….:)

    Tent

    You are turning, spinning -
    lifting creation through the darkness
    of our nights of incomprehension
    and blind ignorance,
    lifting us. You are
    the piercing star of pure Love,
    whose breath holds
    the spinning strands of
    a spider’s web,
    within the space of
    inhalation and exhalation,
    like a tent to capture for a moment,
    the brilliance of Your Gaze
    on the Pearl of Creation and his blessed form!

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