it can be nothing else if He blew life into Adam

This is the month of return,
the month awash with sins,
floating away in the stream of regret,
turned to foam, turned to mist, turned to nothing.

He has set aside this tumble dry of you, for you.
He awaits with gates flung open,
by the breath of His eminent Being,
a perfumed breath,
of compassion.

He has set for us a bath house,
to ablute outwardly,
more importantly, breathe Him inwardly,
but He cannot dwell in a soiled cavity,
so He asks of us this simple depravity,
leave food, leave water, leave vileness,
for Me.

A month long journey to Him,
reconnecting with the utter-ness of nothing,
so like He blew,
into Adam his breath,
He can blow into you.

God is a jealous God,
He wants to bring you closer to Him,
and there you are pretentious,
vain, arrogant,
an ever dependent earthling,
incessant ego prattling,
go make yourself then,
if you are indeed something.

Oh ingrate, oh hypocrite,
yes I am talking to you, to me,
the writer of this ode of misery,
vile and wretched you live your entirety,
come for one day and be pulled to His gravity,
it’s not ever down, but always and ever upwardly.

In your abasement of carnal fetishes, find your hollow,
create the space, and remove your sorrow,
and find the root of you,
by cleansing with blunt bristles if you have to,
and follow inwards, and swallow,
the bitterness that is admitting,
that you’re merely something borrowed.

One month of your life,
for a lifetime for Him.
And you wonder why the breath of the fasting is like musk,
What else would it be if naught else but God is within?

Ramadan Mubarak to all the Muslims around the world. May this month replace your breath with His divine perfume.

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