How you do Tea..

May 30, 2012




May 23, 2012

Day-colored wine,
night-colored wine,
wine with purple feet
or wine with topaz blood,
starry child
of earth,
wine, smooth
as a golden sword,
as lascivious velvet,
wine, spiral-seashelled
and full of wonder,
never has one goblet contained you,
one song, one man,
you are choral, gregarious,
at the least, you must be shared.
At times
you feed on mortal
your wave carries us
from tomb to tomb,
stonecutter of icy sepulchers,
and we weep
transitory tears;
spring dress
is different,
blood rises through the shoots,
wind incites the day,
nothing is left
of your immutable soul.
stirs the spring, happiness
bursts through the earth like a plant,
walls crumble,
and rocky cliffs,
chasms close,
as song is born.
A jug of wine, and thou beside me
in the wilderness,
sang the ancient poet.
Let the wine pitcher
add to the kiss of love its own.

My darling, suddenly
the line of your hip
becomes the brimming curve
of the wine goblet,
your breast is the grape cluster,
your nipples are the grapes,
the gleam of spirits lights your hair,
and your navel is a chaste seal
stamped on the vessel of your belly,
your love an inexhaustible
cascade of wine,
light that illuminates my senses,
the earthly splendor of life.

But you are more than love,
the fiery kiss,
the heat of fire,
more than the wine of life;
you are
the community of man,
chorus of discipline,
abundance of flowers.
I like on the table,
when we’re speaking,
the light of a bottle
of intelligent wine.
Drink it,
and remember in every
drop of gold,
in every topaz glass,
in every purple ladle,
that autumn labored
to fill the vessel with wine;
and in the ritual of his office,
let the simple man remember
to think of the soil and of his duty,
to propagate the canticle of the wine.


January 31, 2012

It’s a story with multiple layers of messages about finding oneself (with Allah), our position in ultimate existence, our fitra, purification, detachment with this world, and so forth. And the meanings are only revealed as per the person’s level of understanding of these things. SubhanAllah the story is simultaneously touching, poignant, inspirational, and compels a lot of reflection and introspection. It makes me cry every time… and feeling quite regretful of my own shortcomings. I think it’s def a movie you guys would appreciate – R.P


December 15, 2010


Say, God, and forget all else. All & everything else.

That is the moment you will live, truly live, life.

Do not build much, for I shall have you in ruins..

Where do you think you’re going,

You’re in the directionless,

Once you realize this

Then we will talk.

Wonder :)

January 13, 2010


May 21, 2009


Let us step through the dawning mist and awaken our senses,

for we have died and been born once again.

It is incredible, to look, to see, to appreciate all that has been..

And then to take a step forward knowing what is behind you,

Will not leave, will not disappear, but will be with you, now and for always.

For what isn’t disappearing, what isn’t illusionary, what isn’t temporarily before us..

It all comes, and so it all goes, where has it brought us, is what we must understand.

From there to here, and now, from here…to where.

Well let us stand still for a moment, to just look.. and see.

Truly see.

How far have we come, how far will we go..

Ilm o Amaal.

The path of the quluub will never cease to be lit…

It is with that fire that we see, that we listen, that we will.

So,  let the quluub breathe once again.

Let the ruuh expand yet again,  let the souls ease with patience and serenity,

Thus we shall know, and keep knowing.

~Dar bahr-i Khudah, ba fazleh tauwfiq-i Khudah.

Shams-i Qamari.. :)

February 20, 2009


“The moon came to me last night
With a sweet question.

She said,

‘The sun has been my faithful lover
For millions of years.

Whenever I offer my body to him
Brilliant light pours from his heart.

Thousands then notice my happiness
And delight in pointing
Toward my beauty.

Is it true that our destiny
Is to turn into Light

And I replied,

Dear moon,
Now that your love is maturing,
We need to sit together
Close like this more often

So I might instruct you
How to become
Who you
~ Khwajeh Shams ad-Din Muhammad ‘Hafiz’-e Shirazi (Faithful Lover)

The seperation… has led to only the greatest realization! The physical seperation has only been created to show us the path to the spiritual union. What else is this life if not the beautiful path adorned with gardens, golds, and waters, pointing us to the Divine, to the Creator of all, Sustainer of all, the One and only who can gratify all desires. Nothing is without Him, nothing will be without Him, He is the Giver, and the Taker. Only He.

Do not seek other than Him, you will only end up with dust…

Moses & the Shepherd

October 16, 2008

Musa and the Shepherd

Jalaluddin Rumi

Moses heard a shepherd on the road praying, “God,”

where are You? I want to help You, to fix Your shoes

and comb Your hair. I want to wash Your clothes

and pick the lice off. I want to bring You milk,

to kiss Your little hands and feet when it’s time

for You to go to bed. I want to sweep Your room

and keep it neat. God, my sheep and goats

are Yours. All I can say, remembering You,

is ayyyy and ahhhhhhhhh.”

Moses could stand it no longer.

“Who are you talking to?”

“The One who made us,

and made the earth and made the sky.”

“Don’t talk about shoes

and socks with God! And what’s this with Your little hands

and feet? Such blasphemous familiarity sounds like

you’re chatting with your uncles.

Only something that grows

needs milk. Only someone with feet needs shoes. Not God!

Even if you meant God’s human representatives

as when God said, ‘I was sick, and you did not visit me,’

even then this tone would be foolish and irreverent.

Use appropriate terms. Fatima is a fine name

for a woman, but if you call a man Fatima,

it’s an insult. Body-and-birth language

are right for us on this side of the river,

but not for addressing the Origin,

not for Allah.”

The shepherd repented and tore his clothes and sighed

and wandered out into the desert.

A sudden revelation

came then to Moses. God’s voice:

You have separated Me

from one of my own. Did you come as a Prophet to unite,

or to sever?

I have given each being a separate and unique way


of seeing and knowing and saying that knowledge.

What seems wrong to you is right for him.

What is poison to one is honey to someone else.

Purity and impurity, sloth and diligence in worship,

these mean nothing to Me.

I am apart from all that.

Ways of worshipping are not to be ranked as better

or worse than one another.

Hindus do Hindu things.

The Dravidian Muslims in India do what they do.

It’s all praise, and it’s all right.

It’s not Me that’s glorified in acts of worship.

It’s the worshippers! I don’t hear the words

they say. I look at the humility.

That broken-open lowliness is the Reality,

not the language! Forget phraseology.

I want burning, burning.

Be friends

with your burning. Burn up your thinking

and your forms of expression!


those who pay attention to ways of behaving

and speaking are one sort.

Lovers who burn

are another.

Don’t impose a property tax

on a burned out village. Don’t scold the Lover.

The “wrong” way he talks is better than a hundred

“right” ways of others.

Inside the Kaaba

it doesn’t matter which direction you point

your prayer rug!

The ocean diver doesn’t need snowshoes!

The Love-Religion has no code or doctrine.

Only God.

So the ruby has nothing engraved on it!

It doesn’t need markings.


God began speaking deeper mysteries to Moses. Vision and words,

which cannot be recorded here, poured into

and through him. He left himself and came back.

He went to Eternity and came back here.

Many times this happened.

It’s foolish of me

to try and say this. If I did say it,

it would uproot our human intelligences.

It would shatter all writing pens.

Moses ran after the shepherd.

He followed the bewildered footprints,

in one place moving straight like a castle

across a chessboard. In another, sideways,

like a bishop.

Now surging like a wave cresting,

now sliding down like a fish,

with always his feet

making geomancy symbols in the sand,


his wandering state.

Moses finally caught up

with him.

“I was wrong. God has revealed to me

that there are no rules for worship.

Say whatever

and however your loving tells you to. Your sweet blasphemy

is the truest devotion. Through you a whole world

is freed.

Loosen your tongue and don’t worry what comes out.

It’s all the Light of the Spirit.”

The shepherd replied,

“Moses, Moses,

I’ve gone beyond even that.

You applied the whip and my horse shied and jumped

out of itself. The Divine Nature and my human nature

came together.

Bless your scolding hand and your arm.

I can’t say what has happened.

What I’m saying now

is not my real condition. It can’t be said.”

The shepherd grew quiet.

When you look in a mirror,

you see yourself, not the state of the mirror.


The fluteplayer puts breath into a flute,

and who makes the music? Not the flute.

The Fluteplayer!

Whenever you speak praise

or thanksgiving to God, it’s always like this

dear shepherd’s simplicity.

When you eventually see

through the veils of how things really are,

you will keep saying again

and again,

“This is certainly not like we thought it was!”

Mathnawi II 1720-96, from This Longing: Poetry, Teaching Stories, and Selected Letters,

translated by Coleman Barks and John Moyne (Putney, Vt.: Threshold Books, 1988), pp.


I absotively love this story! Ah, Subhan’Allah…

Truly Pious…

May 12, 2008


Those That are Truly Pious

The truly pious sisters never do anything to ever jeopardize their haya
The truly pious sisters have a deep attachment to salah

They have noor dripping from their faces
They are never to be found in all the wrong places

The truly pious sisters are always glowing
They are not the ones that have all their limbs showing

Rather they are those that wear abayas; long, loose and flowing
And when they are tested by Allah they increase their ibadah and keep going

They are mindful of their speech and never engage in idle talk
And they are not amongst those that wish to be noticed when they walk

They are those that have ilm and are constantly seeking
They have the best adab, ahklaq, and manner of speaking

Just like the truly pious sisters there are only a few truly pious brothers
And the truly pious brothers take care of their sisters and mothers

The truly pious brothers have exemplary ahklaq
Pants rolled above the ankle and carrying a miswak

The truly pious brother is cautious about violating others rights
And you can hear his attachment to the Quran with every Surah he recites

His forehead has the mark that only one can get from praying tahajjud every night
Noor eminates from him, and every strand of his beard twinkles like a light

And if the time comes to fight, then he will not take flight
He will enter the battlefield strong like a knight

The truly pious brother makes dua to Allah for his enemies to be guided
And doesn’t incite hatred towards other Muslims, lest we become more divided

The truly pious brother’s eyes are always looking toward the ground
Lowering the gaze because non-mahram women are around

He never insults or curses anyone, and never wastes time
He’s always just with others and keeps his nafs in line

The truly pious brother is always trying to learn more in the deen
Traveling for the sake of ilm is a regular routine

The truly pious brother is always making istigfar for the sins that he may or may not have done.
And he is not the lazy, depressed or pessimistic one

The truly pious brother loves for his brother what he loves for himself
He is never satisfied with his condition, so he is always improving himself

And you will find that the truly pious sisters have sabr and complete tawakkul in Allah
And the truly pious brothers have devoted themselves to seeking the pleasure of Allah

And you will find that those that are truly pious are like the scent of perfume in the air
To the average Muslim, they just don’t compare

They are like precious jewels that are extremely rare
Remaining in their pure form because they are unfit to wear

So if you want to marry from amongst those that are truly pious, then be worthy and not obscene
And don’t waste your time looking for them in places that they would never dare to be seen

You would never go to a swamp to discover a pearl!
Unless instead of a pious woman you want a cover girl!

And if you think that you can go to a garbage dump in search of diamonds
Then that is because you’re looking for Cubic Zirconia, and not those that are truly pious

~ Naimah Abraham

Spring Rocks

March 17, 2008


Spring Aphorisms Told by a Sunlit Rock

By Daniel Abdal-Hayy Moore


If you comb your hair forward over a bald spot

don’t expect the wind to cooperate.

Slick ice horizontal is more fatal than slick ice vertical.

The mane of a rose doesn’t make it a lion

If stairways appeared in your mouth would those who enter

descend into fetid cellars or rise into solariums of light?

Eyes reveal what words conceal.

Words conceal what the heart feels.

The heart feels what distant meadows in

absolute solitude do at the

break of day.

Orange sunlight in shafts of gold hit the

heart’s meadows damp with dew.

The Iron Age was human beings hammering out

a few tools a lifetime.

Does technology have to lead to such gluttonous excess?

The jaws of the desert open wider than the

stomachs of forests.

Each inch of rainforest is kissed by acres of

rainfall leaning into its green mirror.

A mist wipes away cosmetic glamour.

King Midas couldn’t eat a seed, or drink a

drop of water.

At least poverty partakes of the wisdom of the dead —

everyone inhabits a pauper’s grave at last.

The wristwatch is our personal Doomsday Book.

There’s no song like the present

that began before throats first opened

and goes on when the last ear has been sealed.

Death is Spring spelled backwards.

Spring is a sunlit rock.

-Seasons Journal- Zaytuna Institute.