Call me Muhammad - Veneration of the Prophet

Call Me Muhammad

I was nothing,
Then in his name
I was made into a soul,

My soul had no dress
Then I was give a body.
I had no father to seed me
And no mother to bear me
Then an Adam and Eve
Was granted to me,

I had no birthday
Then in his name a day
Was sanctified for my birth,

I had no food, but in his name
My mother gave me milk,

I had no voice, then in his name
I cried and laughed,

I could not walk, I could not run,
Then slowly, in his name
My legs awoke to their duties,

I had no education and no learning
Then a thousand mosques and a thousand graves
Opened their secrets to my hungry mind,

I had no conscience, he gave me his conscience,

I had no manners, he gave me his manners,

I could not write, he gave me quill and ink,
I still could not write, then he taught me
How to feel and think,

I was blind, he was the shining lamp,

In my night sky, he was a thousand stars,
In the void of my understanding,
He was wisdom and truth,
He was love and beauty,

I was heartless, then one day he came
And set his throne in my heart,
He smile and said,
'Call me Muhammad.'

I pull the cloak of veneration of the Prophet over my naked soul because it hides my shameful nothingness, for a life bereft of any nobility in deeds. I do not expect everyone to understand, but really, I am only seeking his gaze. I am not even asking for his embrace, after all... who am I? But even as these thoughts stray into my mind, I could hear the words, "Ah... don't be silly. Come here. Come here."

Pax Taufiqa