The Whispers and the Blessed Night
March 20, 2008
I slipped through the weighty waves of the silky sounds
like you moving your thick locks out of your eyes-
and I found you in Whispers.
Your Whispers wrapped me in a cloak,
like the ones from Jannah
that sheathe the righteous souls from dead bodies.
But then your cloak became worn, torn apart,
slid off my sulking shoulders,
and shredded away in pieces,
and I could only hold a few icy threads burning into my bare hands-
grasping your Whispers.
Your Whispers always beamed,
like starlight upon a dark desert path,
which lit a Path for me,
except I could not see where your light finished
and the light from Jannah started-
instead, I found they intertwined with each other…
but to my misery I only received a glimpse of you, your exemplar.
And yet, I still have your Whispers.
Even after your body vanished
and I got left here once again,
facing the unbelievable, the inconceivable;
I got left here once again,
alone with shayTaan, with seduction;
I got left here once again,
to drop this life or seal this strife,
and I realized one blessed night would not suffice,
because the heavy breaths from my regaining strength
blew away your Whispers.
Knowing I left them somewhere under the filth and grime of damnation,
my broken eyes- sharp edges of vain-
scavenged through the mountains of dirt I dug up for my grave…
And I ask: CAN I NOT HAVE MORE?
Your smell of musk enveloping all those around you,
your speech lifting the heaviest of hearts from barrens,
your stride in a rhythm with your recitation,
your eyes cascading Jannah wherever your face turned,
your smile just as brilliant in illumination as your eman-
but what of my eman?
It cannot stop shaking, breaking,
it cannot be perfection in the making,
but at the same time
it beats against the confinement of my ribs,
and I find myself trembling with the cave of Hiraa’,
I find my tears gushing with zam zam through the earth,
I find myself exalting our Lord with the prostrating trees…
As I go a little lower,
touch the ground,
touch something higher
and faith I have found-
in imitating your Whispers.
Which I now hear,
through the shrieking of this world,
and I stay with,
through the temptations of this world,
and I adore,
through the discouragement of this world,
because I want to stand close behind your sweet scent,
because I want to enter Jannah by your lead,
because I walk with my feet into your footsteps on this Path,
because I fix my eyes to where you fixed yours…
because in hope, for my nafs I strive
as I hear echoing through every day when the sun blazes high:
“My Ummah, my Ummah!”
Dedicated to Ummat Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam), you, and someone.
