I am careless with my heart,
And often I have been scolded
For leaving it all over the place,
I left it in the hands of my departed mother,
I left it in the hands of my living father,
I left it in the hands of my brothers,
I left it in the hands of my friends and strangers,
I have lost my heart so often that I cannot recall
Whether my heart has ever belonged to me at all,
For my heart rose from a golden ocean
And Your winds carried me over the world,
Till the coolness of the high places turned me
Into white water clouds over the land of Man
Until like the rain, my heart fell,
Again and again...
In love with Love,
In love with You.
It is a stormy wet evening here in Kuala Lumpur. And for me, this weather is perfect for recalling and writing the romance between Man and God Almighty and between Man and the Prophet (s.a.w.s.) - like the blip of a beating heart drawn between Ahad (God) and Ahmad (Prophet of God s.a.w.s.).
Cristina Colombo has let her hearts be stolen and spirited away by all sorts of people and hung on the walls of the strangest and most magical of homes. Though I make no hearts and have only one to give, alas, I too must confess my carelessness, forever losing it to my loving friends and family, to strangers looking for aid, to benefactors showing me mercy and kindness, to the beautiful dawn each morning I awake, and to the sounds of the rain outside, and the thunder high in the stormy sky.
But sky or man, rain or strangers, dogs or a cat named Moses, to whomever or to whatever I lose my heart to, in truth don't we all lose our heart to Him? Allah s.w.t., Creator of Creation, Knower of all things known and unknown, Most Compassionate, Most Merciful unto His creation - ergo, you and me and everyone else in between.
And that God has bestowed upon all humanity, the best of humanity and the best of Creation in the person of Muhammad ibn Abdullah (s.a.w.s) is the ultimate divine assurance of love. And that however you may lose your heart, it is always in the keeping of God Himself. If we would only remember and recall.
So I guess all of our hearts, yours and mine - its not ours really, but belong to the Master of the Universe, Muhammad Prophet of God (s.a.w.s), under the care of the Companions of the Prophet and the Saints assigned unto us, for our guidance, protection and happiness.
Rain makes me soppy this way. But can you really blame me? My heart is not mine, I am sorry.
wa min Allah at-taufiq
Hate has no place in Islam
Love will show the Way