We Will Cry

The caravan draws closer,
And the walls of Madinah near.
The caravan has returned, bereft of its master Husayn.
Imam Sajjad stops, burdened by his message
And when his uncle Muhammad asked,
“Where is my brother?”
He could only weep and reply,
I have returned to you an orphan,
I have come back home, only with the women.

The lady of patience has lost her strength,
she can no longer hold up her back.
and she falls off her horse.
She remembers how their caravan left,
and sees how they have returned.
When Ummul Baneen asked her, 
Why has your back become bent,
and your hair grayed, my child?
How will it not, she replied,
When the daughters of the family of the Prophet
were paraded through the markets,
and made to attend the court of Yazeed.
And kept for months in a prison cell,
and witnessed the falling of one after another
of the courageous sons of Bani Hashim.
And heard the cries of Sakinah,
and the chains tearing into the flesh of Sajjad,
As well as the bodies of the martyrs,
scattered on the sands,
And the mutilated body of Abbas at the shore?

Why will I not cry when I have witnessed every atrocity
Till I thought that my grandfather had commanded only torture for his kin?
And she went to the grave of her grandfather, the Prophet
and held the gate to the mosque and proclaimed:
O Grandfather! I am conveying to you the news of my brother Husayn's martyrdom!
And cried for Husayn, and cried for Abbas
Then she turned to her mother,
And poured out her heart
And told her, only I have returned my mother,
I have left the joy of your heart in Nainawah,
I left the light of your eyes in the land of Karb and Balaa.

And the city of Madinah mourned,
And their cries reached the heavens.
For the radiant lady eulogized her brothers and sons,
and army of the men of God,
who stood against the tyrant yazeed.
Till the tears flowed, like rivers from the lovers
And the creatures of the heavens and the earth
joined Zaynab as she cried and she mourned.
And every time she would look at al Sajjad,
the tears would flow, from her noble eyes.

Thus she mourned al Husayn,
to the end of her days,
and the shias joined her, and they cried for Karbalaa.
But who will cry for our lady Zainab?
She who witnessed and saw,
and was our eyes at Karbalaa.
Witnessing every moment, and relating it to us,
and when we heard the tale,
of the injustice and tyranny,
we cried our tears, and we cried our blood.
Again I will ask, who will cry for Zaynab?
We will cry, ya Zahra, for your brave patient daughter,
we will cry to the end of our days.


“Peace be upon her the day she was born, the day she died and the day she will be brought back to life…” Salamullah 3layki ya Ummul masaaib Sayyidatna Zaynab bint Ali bin. Abi Talib. 

Aliyyun Ameeri

How will he not form the basis of criterion,
Between faith and hypocrisy;
When it is he,
For whom the Kaabah split open its walls
in recognition of his approach,
and the sun retraced its steps
to allow him time to pray?
As a lad of ten, he declared his support for Rasul,
and became as Aaron was to Moses.
The victorious lion of Allah,
Whose sword dispensed only justice.
The instrumental son of Islam,
who swept the idols off their perches -
when the Kaabah was freed.

The mark of this prince is upon his forehead,
the mark of the earth.
When he entered salah, he died in the world,
yet remained a servant of the creatures of Allah.
Alive to and responding to their calls of distress,
even as he bowed down in prayer.

No ink can describe, or words capture,
the essence of one whose devotion is praised in the heavens.
One can only strive to love him,
in his heart, his words and his deeds;
For this is he,
who has found Allah to be exactly as he would wish,
and strove to be,
and became,
as Allah would wish.

What will the follower say, when asked of this man,
whoencompassed the manifestation
of all human perfection,
without becoming divine?
What will he explain, when asked of his love,
Except plead:
"May Allah reveal his love to me!"
What then will the believer say, when asked to describe
The brother, successor and supporter of the Prophet.
The one whose face Satan cannot dare look at,
Who has bowed down to none other than Allah
Except whisper his love, with tears in his eyes,
and proclaim to the world:
"Aliyyun Ameeri, wa ni'mal Ameer!"

First Glance

Two brothers in faith have set out on a quest

To see with their own eyes this blessed land

Leaving family to God, the arduous trip begins

These men will go on foot

From the kingdom of Baganda to the holy talked of land

Confirming, in flesh, the truth the Arab tradesman brought

Of the black draped cube that is home to every one

Whose first glimpse will drive a grown man to tears

Whose scent gives peace to the orphaned soul

Where Abraham’s footsteps are carved in stone

Whose majesty and glory no pen can describe

Along the Nile, across the desert of Nubia

The pyramids stood as silent witnesses to this feat

Footsore and weary, they arrive at last

Bewildered, humbled, thankful and amazed

The two men collapse in tears at the sacred ground

Even if they went insane, who can blame them?

They have caught their first glimpse of the Ka’abah

In unity with the races of the world, the men perform the rites

Each silenced, awed, drinking in the sacred memory

At Zamzam they are quenched, at Arafah released

In Madinah, only duty compelled them to tear their bodies away

They must now go home, with salutations from Hijaz

Along the way, one returns to his Lord

A smile playing on his lips as he says the Shahadah

He has fulfilled his pledge, he has seen the Ka’abah

The second now hastens his step

Alone he must bear the burden of enlightening a nation

The village breaks into celebration at the return of their Haji

As for him, who has lived and died

He can only smile, and say

By God! Every word you heard is true!

The Ant

An ant once carried a grain of salt,
And felt accomplished in his achievement.
Till one day when realization dawned,
That the Master he served
Needed not his obedience,
Nor was He harmed by his disobedience.
Humbled by this reality and strengthened,
The next day he carried a melon seed.

As he journeyed his way,
With a load he had thought impossible to bear,
He came upon wisdom carved on a mountain side
Of the worthy traits:
Truthfulness, moderation and a good disposition,
With thirst for beneficial knowledge,
And equal strength in hardship and pleasure.
Unwavering in convictions, with his passions slain;
The traveler helps neither to reciprocate nor seek favour.
He doesn’t harm his enemy, or sin for his friend,
Accepting his faults, not forgetting, neglecting or slandering;
Abandoning both, the cloaks of deep gloom and excess joy.
He is neither impressed nor pleased by praises sung of him;
And seeks the help of his Lord in this test;
Causing the satan within himself to submit at his hand.
The ant took this advice as his creed,
And when he left, the mountain followed him.

As he went, he shed the layers of this world;
And saw heaven and hell, real before his eyes,
And he looked to the sky and proclaimed:
“Al jannatu haqq! Wan-naaru haqq!”
And his wants decreased as his wishes diminished;
All other than the Master lost its significance.
In the day he served the creatures;
And at night would seek cures in the Book;
Help for his impressionable heart,
Which was weak enough to glow from mere flattery.
Then when the day came again,
He went on his way, reconciling his deeds with his words
And the world became as salt-less food.

Were it not for the fact that his days on earth are fixed
He would escape it at a moment,
To reunite with his Lord.
But he lives on, this ant,
Pleading not to be left to his self,
Even for the blink of an eye,
Now bearing the world
Upon his lean, firm back.



Inspired by: The Sermon of the Pious

Labbayk

Drowning in the ocean of tears,
Which fell, drop by silent drop,
In the darkest of the night, the hours of peace,
Of a wish so great and deep to fulfill a foretold duty.
When the black flags are raised and the call of the righteous is made;
To go and stand under the banner.
In my dreams today I am borne;
And I cross the mountains and valleys
Till when my limbs go no more;
And I fall on my knees, and crawl to you.
Inch by inch on the gravel, pledging my path in blood;
And I arrive in your presence to offer what is left of my limbs
To your service, dedicated.
And I lower my eyes, blinded by the light emanating from your person
And give you my hand, and say:
Here I am my leader, here I am!
And you touch the top of my head, with your hand,
Gentle, and caressing and I cry;
And I wake up in tears, again.
Again, I meet the man from Khorasan only in my dreams. 

Come

Come, stay with me
Under the open sky.
Touched by the rays of the stars, 
Watching the silent moon.

Come, walk with me.
Splash in the waves once more,
Leaving our footprints in the sand,
Laughing under the sun.

Come, stand with me
Raise your hands in the storm,
Catch its drops on your tongue,
Feel the rain on your skin.

Come sit a while,
Touch the wings of a butterfly
Landing on a scented rose,
Breathe in the life of nature.

Come, join me again
Humbled by another sunset,
Or a sparkling dewy rainbow,
Marveling at His perfect splendor.