The heart can dry up,
even the most moist tongue,
uttering litanies of thanks,
uttering wanton prose of need,
is quietly begging rainfall,
to stir the seeds that lay dormant,
because we have a desire to be content,
and we know we can’t get it with stuff.
I’ve thus found it easier,
fought myself at both ends of my wit and found,
it’s not hard to be wet with contentment,
when you’re bathing in gratitude,
when you’re drowning in gratitude,
Alhamdullillah, wa shukr lillah
Necessity spawns creativity.
There’s a reason why you’re deprived of things.
You must believe in a wisdom beyond your comprehension.
All that banishment,
all that parchment
is preparing you
for a poetic end.
It’s easy to be infatuated with the idea that you are owed a perfection of practise.
Of being able to sail through your art, your craft, your day to day chores without resistance.
What you deem is the world conspiring against you, is sometimes the world conspiring for you. The value in everything is intrinsic, and for you to realise what you have will require continuous external pressure until that manifests.
-Wesam El dahabi
Three AM silence,
is not a healthy way to find your breath.
of what is normal for others,
awake when they sleep,
awake when they’re awake,
takes its toll on you.
When you think of it,
it’s double the work for half the survival.
That survival is only temporary,
before you use up your heart.
Nobility has its passage,
and it is not a dragging robe,
it’s dragging your ego in the dirt,
until it is one with the soil of humanity,
until you care not from where truth comes from,
as long as it comes.
Coming to terms,
may mean ignoring your mind,
to settle your heart,
slowing your heart,
to soothe your soul,
soothing your soul,
doesn’t mean mending it,
it just means,
accepting it for what it is.
If it comes, it comes.
If it doesn’t,
there will be aloe for ink.
He with the darkest secrets should master silence,
observant with where his tongue may lead him,
treading lightly around the minefield of egotistical swaying,
until all the quiet becomes a guiding light.
It may be that this introversion is the vehicle for my salvation,
it may be that it lulls me into a false sense of security,
the balance of trusting the light and embracing the darkness,
ever so fine a thread.