I visited the Prophet at the Raudah (‘the Garden’ to denote the resting place of Muhammad, prophet of God at his mosque in Medina) a couple of times over the four days I was in Medina, and mostly at night. There is in fact a whole chapter on the Adab (the beautiful manners) of visiting the Raudah, which was later given to me by my friend, Syful. But for the first couple of visits I was on my own with my feelings,... and how my feelings found strange expressions in the Arabian nights.
And his Nation...
"O' my Prophet", we said, "O’ my Nation", he replied
O’ my Prophet,
You are the Sun of my sun,
O’ my Nation,
You are the moon of my Moon,
You are the Light of my light,
You are the eye of my Eye,
You are the Truth of my truth,
You are the sky of my Sky,
You are the Hu of my Hu,
You are the i of my I,
O’ my Prophet,
You are the Sea of my sea,
O’ my Nation,
You are the lake of my Lake,
You are the dream in my Wake,
You are the Tears of my tears,
You are the Smile of my smile,
You are the joy of my Joy,
In all of my Years.
O’ my Prophet,
You are the Hope of my hope,’
O’ my Nation,
You are the kiss of my Kiss,
You are the Breath of my breath,
You are the peace of my Peace,
You are the Soul of my soul,
You are the good to my Good,
You are the flame in my Night,
That has never grown cold.
O’ my Prophet,
You are the rain of my Rain,
O’ my Nation,
You are the Pearl of my pearl,
You are the Heart of my heart,
You are the being in my Being,
You are the sea to my Shore,
The rise of my Sleep,
The path to my Door
The road to my Keep.
O’ my Prophet,
You are the Spring of my spring,
O’ my Nation,
You are the sting of my Sting,
You are the Strength of my strength,
You are the Sword in my sheath,
You are the Grace of my grace,
The Praise in my praise.
O’ my Prophet,
You are the Stone of my stone,
O’ my Nation,
You are the earth of my Earth,
You are the Salt of my tears,
You are the eternity of my Forever,
You are the Water in my ocean,
You are the Treasure of my Passion,
You are the hope above all Hopes,
You are my answers to the Lord,
When He asks me this question…,
“O’ Muhammad,
What is the greatest gift
You have ever received?”
And I reply,
“It is my Nation,
It is your Mercy,
It is Me.”
I am glad I managed to finish this poem. It has been burning a beautiful bloom upon my back, and I weary of carrying it alone. The writing commenced at 11.15am on the 26th March 2011 in Medina and finally finished just last night. So now it is written and it is out here.
Thank you, sunshine. For allowing me to share the burden of my happiness and madness with you.
Pax Taufiqa.
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