I am calling them,
But few heed me,
All they hear is
"My servant, my servant",
And in pride,
they turn away.
Had they heeded me,
Would have they not found in me
Their greatest hopes?
And even more would
I have bestowed.
Would I have not
Taken them closer to me?
In the intimacy
Of their companionship
With their children
Is an analogy
For all to wonder,
But they enquire not
And remain blind,
They say, "I am me",
Not knowing their true nature,
Lo, that the truth would have set them free,
But they do not understand.
ME. The entrance to the Raudah (Garden) of Muhammad, Beloved of God, Mercy of the Worlds. I found myself there one night in end March 2011. Nobody visits the Prophet and return unaffected, and I am no exception. Did I return a better man? Probably not. But I certainly returned with beautiful, beautiful memories.
YOU. Go to the Raudah, and tell me what you find there. Go, for unlike me, you deserve to be there. I am certain the Prophet would be delighted to have your company. Go, so at the very least, from my dishonourable company came you, sunshine. He will love you. He is just that sorta man.
NUTS. At the Raudah, nothing remains the same. And though I am only just a month after my pilgrimage, it is the sweetest yearning for me to return - I would be holding a tube of Colgate toothpaste bought in Medina or Mecca and suddenly a wistful warm feeling would flow over me. Yes, I know I am nuts. So if you do go, be careful! Hehehe.
Its been a lovely sabbath (so far), sunshine.
Pax Taufiqa.
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