Eid (a poem)

Eid card with butterfly

Eid Mubarak, may every year find you happy and healthy

By Eya

Eid is a celebration
Of Ramadan past
Of our consecration
To Allah in our fast

Thankful for much
As those who have not
Allah’s merciful touch
Healing our soul’s rot

Continuing our life
In hopes of reaching
Many lost in strife
To Islam in teaching

The care and kindness
To unbelievers around
Religion of mercifulness
In a love that is bound

Having gone without
Helping the ones in need
Leaving no doubt
A selfless act to the poor we feed

Therefore having guarded
Our actions before man
To be greatly rewarded
In having gained heaven
Ins sha Allah

***

Eya Sarah is a mom, cashier, poet and photographer. She lives in Alberta, Canada, and enjoys time with her boys.

Poem: Build a Dream

Tree of dreams

Build a Dream

I have trudged through sands.
I have come with injured hands
to build a dream.

I’ve given it all to you
and worn ragged shoes.
I’ve grown lean.

I’m walking this path
out of the dark past
carrying child and faith.

I’m late on the scene –
but I am not done trying
to build a dream.


Wael Abdelgawad
January 26, 2015
Fresno, California

Poem: A Prayer for Today

Shaykh Zayed Mosque, Abu Dhabi

Shaykh Zayed Mosque, Abu Dhabi

By Wael Abdelgawad | IslamicSunrays.com

Today I say no prayers for myself.
As for my enemies, I wish them well
in the truest sense – well hearts
and minds, and a well of light.
Today, on this day of spring sunshine
and headlines full of death
– ISIS leaving heads on the roadside
and young Muslim leaders
gunned down in the USA –
it’s for the Ummah that I pray.
I pray for the Muslim people
to rediscover the merciful heart
of their deen; and to find their power,
science, architecture, art,
and the quiet joy of ‘ibadah
and Allah’s love.
Let them step into the century
free from tyranny, standing tall
with Islam as hope and call.
Let them drink from the bubbling spring
of the Quran.
Let them breathe.
Let them free themselves
and transform the world.

Chase Your Dream – Poem by Mirza Yawar Baig

Beautiful road

My Thoughts

My deepest fear is that I will simply die one day
Crying for what might have been
The earth will be free of carrying my burden
And there will be no trace of my passing

What use such a life?
That one lives and one dies
Yet there is nothing to show that either happened!

Nothing was changed
No oppression relieved
No ideas ignited
No lives touched
Nothing!!

Just that I had lived
And now I am dead

Chase your dream and know
Dreams want to be caught
To live, the dream must come true
Until then it is only a dream

I walked alone through the desert
I walked alone by the ocean
I walked alone through the forest
I walked alone on the mountain

For I was born to die
But I was not born to die without meaning
I was given the chance to make what meaning I desired
For that is what would define me when I was gone

I ask myself, ‘What did I do?’
What more could I have done?
For in the end it was not about others
It was about me.

By Mirza Yawar Baig  of YawarBaig.org

Poem: The Sorrows – by Sarah Saghir

Muslim woman praying in Indonesia.

Muslim woman praying beside a rice field in Indonesia.

   the sorrows
that borrow
the four chambers
of the heart
     shrivel
in the hour
 of Remembrance.

   the sins
that sit
on the shoulders
     tumble
to the floor
 where I'm bowing.

   the troubles
that scribble
over my vision,
     disperse
in the horizon
of Your Pleasure.

By Sarah Saghir
July 15, 2013

***

The Messenger of Allah said (peace be upon him): “When the worshiper gets up to perform the Salah, he comes with all his sins, placed over his shoulder. When he bows into Ruku’ or Sajdah, his sins fall down.” (Reported by Abu Nu‘aim)

Poem: A Heart Like Ibrahim

Wolgan Valley Resort

Wolgan Valley, Australia

A new Muslim convert named Eya submitted this lovely poem:

A Heart Like Ibrahim

A Christian who becomes Muslim
Finds much work is needed
To have a heart like Ibrahim
Soon discover I will be tested.

Islam is new for me to learn;
However, I am up to the task.
As Islam is something I yearn
I wash & pray to Allah to ask.

I wish for much patience
With love and tender care;
While having much guidance
As one day I too will share.

Poem: Hear Those Who Call

Dove flying

 

Hear Those Who Call

O Allah, hear those who call:
the refugees, the small,
and those who cannot speak.
Hear them and help with blessings from above;
and for me…
give me love.

I know I’m weak.
A life that sometimes weighs
to others would be sweet.
Help the victims of war, and prisoners of speech:
feed them, care for their wounds…
and for me… bring a heart that beats.

For my people in Palestine,
in Syria, in Burma, I weep.
Give them freedom and a new day.
And if there’s one stray soul
searching for me, Ya Allah,
then show her the way.

If You think I’m arrogant,
then break me down.
Bring me low to praise You above.
And if You think it’s right,
if I’ve grown as You want me to grow,
if You look inside

and see a soul
sincere as a dove,
new and ready to be born…
then bring me love.

Wael Abdelgawad
September 9, 2012

Poem: Good Timber Does Not Grow With Ease

Tall tree, huge tree, beautiful tree

Good Timber

By Douglas Malloch

The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light,
But stood out in the open plain
And always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king
But lived and died a scrubby thing.

The man who never had to toil
To gain and farm his patch of soil,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man
But lived and died as he began.

Good timber does not grow with ease:
The stronger wind, the stronger trees;
The further sky, the greater length;
The more the storm, the more the strength.
By sun and cold, by rain and snow,
In trees and men good timbers grow.

Where thickest lies the forest growth,
We find the patriarchs of both.
And they hold counsel with the stars
Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds and much of strife.
This is the common law of life.

Don’t You Fall Now

Langston Hughes

Langston Hughes

“Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor —
Bare.
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.
So boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now —
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.”

– Langston Hughes

Poem: You are One

Sunlight in the forest, sunlight on the trees

You Are One

The trees and shadows
are black and brown –
I’m afraid to turn around –
then I hear a sound
like a trumpet call,
ringing like the dawn,
orange and clean.
It’s the call of the One,
a perfect Quran,
revealed upon a man
and lights the world like a sun.
It shines on my skin
and warms my mind.
I stride through the trees
tall like a woodsman –
no fear now.
You call and I come,
O Allah, As-Salam,
You are the One.

Wael Abdelgawad
June 23, 2012

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