No More Conforming

I catch a glimpse and approach.
We stroll in the calm stream,
Branches tenderly bowing,
The gentle chill on my cheek.

Spoken words as we walk.
Before me, a pool of immense beauty.
Am I to search within me,
Or will I be reaching my destiny?

No Bag of Tricks

How do we define normal? And if deemed not to fit, what category are the “abnormal” placed in?

Expectations can run high or scepticism sets in – the latter is of no issue. What tires is the incessant questions instead of seeking in God.

Majority does not have to mean conformity.

A First That Baffles

The instinct to react,
Cannot be explained.

The link that connects,
Beyond comprehension.

Sense of closeness although far,
Visions, emotions trickle through the distance.

No intention of conception,
No means of control.

The explanation forthcoming,
Or a mystery to remain.

I Won't Weep For You

Oh Little One,
I won’t weep for you today
Allah has smiled upon your heart
And taken you away

Amid thunder and confusion
Your tears and cries so thin
There were angels there beside you
Calling you to him

And though you walked upon the earth
For such a little while
In the playground of forever
You’re running with a smile

So Little One,
I won’t weep for you today
Allah has smiled upon your heart
And carried you away

- lyrics by Zain Bhikha

It Was Five Years Ago

It has been 5 years since Omar returned. I have vivid memories of pushing Omar in his stroller to watch the birds during our hospital stay of about six months.

The day I was told there was no other option for Omar, I accepted it. I knew the time would come, it was just a matter of when I would hear those words.

Lights off at the hospital. I cried, holding his hand in the crib next to my bed. He had to leave this world.

That same night I had a vision of a handsome young man with long brown hair. He seemed about 17 years in age. He said, "Mom, I'll be fine." A sense of calmness overwhelmed me and I often recall the image of that young man.

Omar spent the last three months of his life on earth at home. My daily du'a was for him to be taken from this world in a peaceful manner.

I heard the call for Maghrib prayer. Omar made a gasp. Instinctly I picked him up. I gazed at him as he let out a few more gentle gasps, then it was just his physical body in my arms.

The beauty of that moment has never left me.
Knowing that Allah had answered my du'a stays in my mind.

Sucked In, Stretched Out

We never really know what's going to happen. It's like being pulled into a black hole, going thorugh the tidal force and getting ripped apart.

If all is not lost, would we turn out for the better? Or is this all just a hologram?