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.
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!