It is hard to write when I am not here - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 6

1. Absent in the past, present and future
When I think of the past, I visit it,
And when I return to the present
I leave a little of myself behind
To contemplate the past further.

When I think of the future, I visit it,
And when I return to the present
I leave a little of myself behind
To contemplate the future further.

When I contemplate Love, I visit Him,
But Love refuses to grant leave of me,
So I am ever in contemplation of Him,
And am in truth now
Absent from my past, present and future.

So who is typing all these words now?

Ooh… I don’t know!
……………..

Perhaps I am already in Jerusalem, Medina or Mecca? But the butterflies in my stomach, my edginess (sorry, Heche) and my bedroom floor littered with things still unpacked bear witness that I, Taufiq is still here in Malaysia. So that is good. It is hard to write when I am not here.

This is the 6th pre-Umrah posting. I hope you have enjoyed my wandering thoughts across the wilderness of my soul. But truthfully, when I contemplate the coming days and nights in the perfumed air of Arabia… my mind draws a blank. It is like love, and we are forever in desperation because of Love. Not in anticipation of bad things, but in nervous expectation of all that is Wonderful and Good - when God finally says to you, “Hullo there, pilgrim.” ...

2. Desperately in love
There are banners fluttering in the breeze,
Called by the whisper of a silent praise
Sung by someone for Muhammad.

And I sit beneath a blue sky,
And a rising light illuminating
A mosque of my heart.

I am desperately in love with my Lord,
I am desperately in love with His Love,
And I am desperately in love with you.
...............
.

And sometimes, Love is manifest in a man / woman, in the words gently breathed from an awaken slumber… “I love you.”

I am going to the three greatest mosques on the surface of the planet. But in whichever holy soil that I am on, I am sure I shall always see you there, sunshine. Because we are not divided by our faiths, not when all rivers of Love run its final course to the Mercy Ocean. And there, it is you that I see.

God bless you, pet.

Pax Taufiqa.