Muhammad is my master, my captain
And the messenger sent to me
By God to teach me about Love.
So his mecca is now my mecca,
His medina my medina,
His companions mine,
his family my family,
And his concerns
He is the root through which
I drink the strength of the earth
Beneath my feet,
He is the trunk and branch by which
I stretch my hands towards God,
He is the beautiful blooms
That are my children,
And when autumn comes
He is the leaves that
Blanket the earth,
Where I gently lay down my love,
All my kisses and sighs.
And when life ebbs
From my withered limbs,
It is into his embrace I fall,
Closing my eyes for the last time,
To the birds, to the trees and the skies.
On Thursday night, I took myself away from company and listened to music. I do not know why, but I started recalling all my friends, old and new that I made during my Umrah Pilgrimage. Accompanied by no one but Beyonce's song, Halo, I started to write the above prose. It was my first poem since I came back from the Holy Lands, about 1 month ago. I sent it out via sms to a couple of my companions on the pilgrimage. Some responded but others didn't, no doubt wondering, "What the...?" Hehehe.
One Friday morning I arrived in the office and Ani said that last night she dreamt I died. She said that in her dream, me and Ariffin came back from a meeting, and she saw that I looked very tired. The next thing, she was already at home when she received the news on her cellphone that alas, her boss have passed away. She said many people attended the funeral. I wonder who they were?
We should live our lives to the fullest. After all, who knows when we might die... even in someone else's dream.
Have a perfectly lively Sabbath, sunshine. After 1 day of blogspot downtime, I am glad to be back.