The Secret Nature of the Red Sulphur

Red Sulphur

I am diminished,

Amounting to nothing,

If only I could share this with you

Without writing, without living,

Without reflecting or breathing.

If you read this, 

Assure the Lord that through

Your heart passed a thought,

And you know not from whence it came,

Nor who spoke them to you.

That way I can still continue writing,

And you can still continue reading,

But we can still amount to nothing...

Seeking the secret nature of the red sulfur.

..................................

Do you know that I am a prostitute? I have given myself to the world and all its distractions for a few baubles of worthless stones and validation by worthless men. Do you know that I am a thief? I have misappropriated time meant for virtuous deeds but filled them with lust, depravity and deceit. Do you know that I am a sorcerer? I have rejected the company of Angels and Heralds, preferring the boisterous party of Djinns and men with the nature of Djinns.

Well, you should know all this, for this is the sinner's almanac!

He he he.

If I have some hope for redemption and mercy, why should you, of all people, worry? You are beautiful already, sunshine.

So don't worry. Be happy. Believe. And help me find the secret nature of the Red Sulphur.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The World, a Temple of Divine Beauty - Death is not the End nor Birth the Beginning

128. Dear World

This world has lost all her luster,

Her charms, worn and weathered,

Her rice gone bad, her milk gone bitter,

But for all my bluster, my dear,

I cannot leave you yet,

Something always pulls me back.

Beauty, drawn by God's countless ways breath meaning into both life and death, into both the living and the dying. If this is the way of our Creator, how can we but not be enamoured by the breadth of His artistic vision?

Such is His Perfection that nothing that happens in the natural world is without cause and effect. Nothing is coincidental and every thing is planned. We are born, we live for a while, then we return to the earth, giving back our energy to regenerate into something else. Our soul take leave of the physical world, returning to the metaphysical reality of the after-life. But I reckon that I shall still miss this world...

The Paddy Fields

I do not know how beautiful heaven is,

But I wager I would still look back

Wistfully to the earth and the sky,

To the green paddy fields

That once swayed in my eyes.

When it comes to Divine Beauty, death is not the end nor birth the beginning. Don't you agree, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

In the Library of Love

The Library of Love

I wandered into the Library of Love,

And what a strange collection

That Love possesses,

For in all its cabinets and shelves

Are filled with books

All embossed by the singular title of

“Ahad & Ahmad”

I have been honoured with the permission

To open and read many

Although there is still

A mountain of books

Yet to be read.

In one book

I found an illustration

Of my mother,

In another I read the life of

My paternal grandfather,

In one giant book I became

Enamoured with the Angels,

And in the next I studied

The map of Hallaj’s heart.

In a colourful tome I was

Educated in the stories of

The People of God,

And their names were

Both Muslims and

Non-muslims.

I became acquainted with Raj,

Amir, John, Karen, Martin,

William and Maria.

In the donors' list

Of the Library I found

The names of the people

Who came to donate

Their own books… and

Their names were

Ominously familiar to me -

Rumi, Ruzbihan,

Abdul Qader Geylani,

Ibnu Arabi…

Pax Taufiqa

A Layla Majnun Exposition No.3 (Durham Cathedral, England)

184. Cathedral of Beauty

If Layla had not sent Majnun to guide us,

How long would we stray still in the temples of lesser devotions,

Never to set foot in the Cathedral of Beauty?

............................................................

From the 1st Chapter entitled Dam.SunSun.Ana (circa 2004)

I studied in the UK from 1991 to 1995, in Leeds and later pursuing my Bar exams in London. To my lasting regret, I didn’t visit Durham Cathedral, a place of piety and beauty adored by my favourite travel writer, Bill Bryson in his book entitled "Notes from a Small Island”.

I am resting my oars awhile here, by the banks of the Layla and Majnun, a river I often paddle and play in. No talks of the worries of this world today, only of love and beauty. That sublime nectar in the flower of God that sends bees like us mad. People will say we are in an asylum, but we say we are in the Lord's Cathedral of Beauty.

Have a nice day, sunshine.

Pax Taufica

.

P/S See: -

A Layla Majnun Exposition

A Layla Majnun Exposition No.2