a daylight dream

of course I am lost, but it does not mean i am forsaken. free falling into this uncertainty of having a purpose beyond myself, I feel the subtlety of being held, enveloped by the ceasing of never ending worries.. of course I am lost in forsaking all my words, and never finding time long enough to reach a silence so deep, welling a boundless bouquet of more.. I’m lost in separation and found in oneness. I’m lost in myself and found in everything. in the minuscule drop that contains me, I have lost my essence finding it in the mirror.. is it true that this is no longer about me? that it’s no longer what these words and hands can do? is it true now that freefalling into the precious now is all there is to be alive for? then I am lost..  I am lost . a heart never ceases being reminded of you, dear one. there is a mind in all of this instructing it to keep it away.. in the silence of it, the sacredness remains.

first came the bout of cold, passing through it as fast as i could. somehow, speed was necessary this week. time was perceived unmercifully, and despite the longer bus rides, i was not able to truly linger in restfulness. even the early, springtime walks were rather unlively, occasionally adorned by a few tears— the tears of feeling out of place. i’ve been wondering lately if i’m in the right place. often, i feel that my daily doings are erratically unpurposeful, feeding an unconscious stream of doing that does not see the light. this kind of feeling drains me to the point of exhaustion, to the point where it was arduous to wake in the morning. it’s my first time to take a day off work. i've been waking in tears of fatigue this week, my whole body aching, my heart almost dead. it’s my first time in so long not to feel the passion oozing in my veins to meet the new day, and it hurts. i am still unsure what i’ve done to create this aching soulful fatigue. it’s the afternoon and i’ve ...

do you still read the poetry of spring in your eyes, love? are you still a maddened lover in sleepless worlds, longing your dance, a flame burning air alive? how it hurts me when you forget your truth.. how it hurts my heart when you forsake our heavenly dream of eternal bliss.. a lover knows a lover’s heart, reckons it at once.. the childlike innocence weeping for a sweeter solitude of two souls loved as one.. have you forgotten the child in you that embraced my heart amid the garden of fruit blossoms, dear? oh, don’t tell me you did.. the bliss of love, the sacred gift. and I’m mad, I’m not saying I’m not. I’m mad in my longing, my undoubtful faith, and saying yes to losing everything for you, my love.  my love.. sink in the sweetness, it hurts less than the bitter taste of forgetfulness of of your one faithful servant..

  صاح قلبي هائجاً.. هل نسيتي؟ هل نسيتي حبك الأبدي؟ و عهد كرم حياتك وهباً لخدمة قدسية حرم الإيمان؟ هل تري ضوء فنون الحب؟ صمت لدني و الأنا يغني في مسرح الحياة.. هل تراني حقاً و ليس ذاك صوتي؟ و لا ذاك عملي؟ و لا ذاك عفوي و لا ظني.. خلعت الأشياء لحضرتك.. ذابت الأسباب لحضورك.. تلاشت الطرق منك و إليك.. فيك.. قبلة حبستها في خيالي و لا تبالي شعلتها.. فقد أحرقت نيران الوداع و أراض الأوقات.. بقيت بتسبيح ضوئها و انغمست في وديان أشواقي.. لا تبالي.. لا تبالي..

  I’m sorry for speaking of the secret when I do not know its magnitude, for speaking of the gift without seeing You first,    that my gaze was not in its right place. It’s oftentimes so hard to see You midst all of this: the paradox and its oneness, the dissolution and becoming, till I don’t know which is which. so broken in this love. infinitely heartbroken waiting for my beloved. to my innermost silence I return till no one finds me but You. till all the echoes of this world die down and I can hear the peaceful silence of your undying stream.  I’m sorry, even if I don’t know why. should you fare far from me, meet me in your heart, my love, even when you feel that death is near. a while of remembrance is the sweetest lifetime. a glimpse of truth shines your sky and breaks you if you’ve sailed too far from those little ripples leading you home.. oh, home..  an airplane has taken off once more and a heart is in midair, unsettled in transition. the landing was fl...

  remembering how it was like last Ramadan, i fall helpless being reminded of what i was being taught. it felt like everything being weighing down on me all at once: a restless home touched by sadness, an insecurity in not knowing how to manage, a loss of will and knowing and possibilities fading into a shifting life. i was used to having a structure for my world. an outline of dreams flowering out of intentions. i intended to have a blissful Ramadan at home, to find ease in sadness, to manage feeling weighed down by not wanting to follow habit, to push away the clouds of loneliness being the only one awake, not knowing what to do fix things.. Ramadan is always a difficult time at home. waves of sadness come in clouds, and i always wanted to be the one resisting their winds. now that it’s almost here, this heart beckons with a reassuring whisper—  surrender . what would it be like not to even wish for having things better? what would it be like to trust that even this hardship...

  every breath, and I show you infinite streams. each drop a multitude of ways I l love you. settle on one and you wilt in your mindedness. don’t mind me.. drink in the flowering light. timelessly by your side, in your remembrance. remember me and I flood you with how my love penetrates all the isness abound. ever-shifting, i’m always here. I don’t settle for you. I take you in and you’re swallowed home. follow me in a neverending gaze.

i wake at night from a dream of you. a gentle letter in your eyes and in your heart made to be received. the burning longing to hear you opens my eyes and just like that—  you’re gone. all effort made to hear you again ceases in light of the inscrutable gift, given in benevolence, beyond all schemes. i cocoon myself in unknowingness, and the lament of blaming the dreams in my heart. oftentimes it feels like letting those dreams go, too. the fallen leaf in midair. in streams of surrender. the golden ground of a heart in the right place. there’s nothing to know in this humbling sun..

  the weight of wrong doing fills my body, a heaviness in my centrefold, and i see myself more than before.   what was it that pinned me into separation again? an answer finds itself in my heart. you spoke, knowing it was you. you manoeuvred, knowing it was you. you guided, knowing it was you. you saw that it was you. but it was Me. this soul is leaning into being courteous with its time. but this time is one of invisible silence. the supreme goodness of intentions enough to be planted in the heartfelt ground of loving worldliness. the growth and halting of growth that evolves— it is not I.  light longs to be seen as light, unattached, free flowing and ever-expansive. the heart feels the wrongdoing in attaching itself to it and feels weighed down trying to manoeuvre it by design. the sacredness is inscrutably unspeakable. it longs to be received with this courtesy. surrendering words and doing, light flows into observing eyes, followed intently. it smiles into its becomin...

it’s been one year around the sun since we sat here, our hands in the dirt, digging a home for the most intimate brokenness.. and I sit here now, polarised to climbing mountains that were never meant for our kind of celestial, timeless light. falling to the grass midst the flowering weeds, I break into tears of surrendered grief. why am I falling apart like this? I don’t try to dry those tears. I’m not used to breaking like this, with so much unknowingness. I’m not used to letting go mountains I know these feet could climb. but just like that dream, I choose to trace my steps back to where I meet you, always home, in the light of a sacred life.. in your embrace, we walk in gentleness into the horizons and in the rain of gifts we never deserved.  I grieve losing the path of fear, my love. the sweetest loss.