A Pen Full of Raindrops
My Love is in the falling rain,
He tells me to stay awake
And to come out into the night,
My Love is in the sleepless twilight,
Beneath starlight eaves with
Columns of white light
From the prayers of men,
My Love is filling my pen
With raindrops as countless
As my sins...
I am a rainy fellow. I love the rain, and when I heard the heavy patter of rain on the roof, I know that I cannot stay in. Not when the black night outside is suddenly alive with His Merciful rain. So much for my plans for an early night. He he he. I am sure God plans best of all.
Earlier tonight I asked myself if I know Islam. And I am quite sure I do not know anything much, if anything at all. In fact, I am beginning to suspect that Islam is much, much more vast than even my wildest imaginings can imagine. Islam is far, far more wondrous than any wonder that man has ever built. And it is beautiful. It is subtly, essentially, painfully beautiful. For it hurts your heart's eye even to glance but for awhile into Islam's forge of love, where words and deeds are hone in the white fire of Divine Love... syariat... tariqat, hakikat... makrifat...
What do these words even mean? I am stealing words from the library of the saints, knowing nothing of their meanings.
What has meaning to me is the rain. Little pools of mercy and blessings on the ground now that the rain has left. Many people will be asleep not even realising this. God's blessing whether we are good or bad, whether we are awake or asleep. So what do we have to complain about? Nothing. And what do we have to be grateful for? Everything.
Let us discard the garbs of knowledge, thinking ourselves as 'knowing' our religion. There is no knowing or owning of anything in this world. There is only God Almighty, and there is His Beloved Habibullah (saws). Everything, and anything else are just shadows on the wall, transient ripples in the ocean.
Don't you agree, sunshine?
wa min Allah at-taufiq
-Notrumi Embun, 8th July 2014
Hate has no place in Islam
Love will show the Way