Don’t MIND your gratitude

 

How do you weave the tapestry of gratitude into your heart so that your limbs lead the way?

I could answer, but answering would be worse!

Gratitude sitting in the mind,
is lesser than;
gratitude sitting in your heart;
is lesser than gratitude sitting in your limbs;
is lesser than gratitude acted out.

W.E.

Intimacy with silence

I adore your poise,
your pose, and your noise,
that is, your lack thereof.

How orchestral is your quiet,
majestic is your silence,
this deafening and drumming of nothing at once,
this wonderful humming of quiet and calm.

I’m mad I say, deeply mad,
obsessed with ears that listen,
and a mouth that’s mute.

W.E.

The beautiful picture is by Hossein Irandoust

Perhaps once upon a time my soul met his in this abyss of pre-world obedience and silence.
I’m infatuated by his work to say the least.

who it comes to

 

All beautiful things are concealed well.
Pearls, diamonds, sages, gnostics and my favourite;
artists and writers who only become apparent when they pass.

If you think you’re going to arrive,
at beauty without a struggle,
wisdom and truth without suffering,
peace without a war inside of you,
if you think you’re entitled to it all by default,
just for existing,
then you’re deluded,
and deserve to be barred from it.

Do the work and be patient.

-Wesam El dahabi

Amazing pieces by Hossein Irandoust

What would you pay?

I don’t think I’ve come across more sadness,
than realising my capacity,
knowing I have to lose everything,
to offer thanks for all I’ve been given.

And yet it offers an ease to this anxiety,
that leeches on my happiness,
relinquishment after all is said and done,
floats like fairness in the air.

If ever there was more of a reason,
to lose myself in work,
it is in gratitude to gifts I know are there,

Losing love,
losing health,
losing time,
status or money,
becoming the target of wagging tongues,
pointed fingers,
the laughing stock,
or despised amongst men,
is a small price to pay,
for surpassing mediocrity.

I’ve never met a man devoted to their art,
who could be easily comprehended,
nor a woman Gnostic and acetic,
who wasn’t indifferent to their appearance,
neglectful of their condition,
enough to misguide the laymen
away from their secrets.

Of things I’ve come to know,
there’s a truth that gnaws and twists,
and that is,
brilliance, has its price.

-Wesam El dahabi

I’m never ashamed

 

Dear God,
I refused to lay in my pit of wallowing,
because of Your promise.

I’ve used brokenness and defeat,
to fuel everything beautiful I can learn,
and always relied on my hands,
to guide me to the truth.

The truth that all beauty,
is an indication of one’s inclinations,
and ability to recognise it,
and to remain downtrodden,
is a reflection of one’s low opinion,
of You and Your promise.

This is how I carry myself,
defeat after defeat,
sin after sin,
finding trinkets of beauty,
even in my most despicable state.

I’m never ashamed,
because I know,
there’s far more beauty yet.

W.E.

 

rainfall

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

W.E.