You are a Dot, I am Nothing, and Angels are not Funny - Prose of Ramadhan Part 47

You are a Dot but I am Nothing.

(Ramadhan Verses 26)

People are like little dots of light in the night sky

They are like little pinpricks of love on my skin

They are truly wonderful but awfully small,

Like beads of sand by the sea

Of the Infinite Lord.

As a sinner, duly accredited

By the College of Sinners, Soulville, Tennessee

I am the incorrigible mendicant

A beggar with his begging bowl,

A fool thousand times over,

That's me.

In between my solitude and my writing

I have come across a great many dots -

Wonderful humans with good manners

And perfect hygiene.

I am the nothing connecting the dots,

Between you and my stories,

Between you and my friends and family.

Between Muslims, Jews and Christians,

Hindus, Trekkies and Buddhists.

You see a line between the dots?

Ah, yes... I must confess that

That is not me, you see.

Spiritogeeks call it

The Siratulmustaqim.

What is the Siratulmustaqim, you ask?

The straight path,

The unbending path,

The only path of a Lord

Whose Love is Infinitely

Greater than His wrath.

THEM MUSLIMS. In conventional Muslim lore, the Siratulmustaqim is the bridge that your soul has to cross in order to get that one-way ticket to heaven (Well, why the heck would you want a two-way ticket?). If you are a good boy, you will cross just fine. If you are bad? Well...

Angels - All they do is criticize my writing
and make snide remarks about my weight.

ANGELIC HUMOUR. Angels try to be funny. One was reading this prose and he commented to his companion, whispering just loud enough for me to hear...

"If he is nothing, why is he so fat?"

Like I said. Angels try to be funny.

Have a beautiful day, my beautiful dot.

Pax Taufiqa.

We are Bridgemakers and we use Love to Build our Bridges

82. A bridge between me and you

Love doesn’t hurt,
We hurt.
Love doesn’t bite,
We bite.
Love doesn’t lie,
We lie.
Love isn’t misery,
We are miserable,
Love isn’t hasty,
We are hasty.
Love isn’t blind,
We are.
Love doesn’t fail,
We fail.

For I have found
The Love to heal,
To restrain and
To be truthful,
Joyful and patient,
Revealing and
Illuminating a bridge
That exists between
My heart and yours.

Really, you don't need to book a ticket to Paris, look for a bridge and there declare your undying love. For as long as we live, we all have our bridges to cross already, wherever we may be. In the lore of the Prophet there is a bridge known as the siratul mustaqim (also called the Straight Path) which is said to be a bridge as straight and narrow as your hair split to the seventh degree. It is my belief that the material composition of this delicate bridge is Love, for what else can you build from, that is finer and more delicate than Love?

Glory and blessings upon you, sunshine. For you are indeed one of the bridgemakers of this world. You are not of those who seek to tear down the bridge between race, culture, nation and religion which is often the bloody habit of the peacebreakers of this world. You see me as one of you, despite me being a sinner. You see me as one of you, although we may not share the same skin colour or culture. You see me as one of you, although I am thousands of miles away from you.

But what is physical distance when the bridge that connects us is Love?

Have a perfect Sabbath, sunshine. *Sniff* I still have a little flu and cough. But I will muddle through alright!

Pax Taufiqa