240514
Last night she saw herself swimming in her prayers. Enveloping herself in words of her own making. Searching in the dark for warmth that is neither felt nor seen, but heard.
Within barely noticeable veins and thin strands of thread that travels up, up, up.

This morning she finds herself drowning in the comfort of her tales singing sorrowful notes of low dull beats that triumphantly echo the silent movements of a wondrous sight beyond what the heart can imagine slowly reaching a hand towards the top of her soul where it hangs still and limp from the very gates that kept it safe. Enclosed.

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Ya Malik
 SubhanAllah, walHamdulilah, wa La illaha ilAllahu, waAllahu Akbar 
Glory be to Allah, All Praise is for Allah, there is No God but Allah and Allah is the Greatest

 Never has this dzikr meant so much and felt so close to me until this very moment. 
Glory be to Him for all the glorious moments in this world and its very patrons - some hearts are just bigger than the body holding it, their sincerity more vast than the sky above.
All Praises be to Him for the never ending love He has bestowed upon each soul of His beloved creations, their generosity overflowing the seas up ahead.
Greatness; truly and surely for Him and Him only because verily, nothing happens except for what He wills and verily, I can only see, hear, touch, give and receive what Allah swt has decreed upon and allowed me to. Always.

 HasbunAllahu wa ni'mal wakeel
Allah alone is Sufficient for us and He is the best Disposer of affairs (for us)

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220514
That night, she told me how things could have been... different. For me.
And I thought...
Could it be that truly, of all the things I would later be, there was a possibility of me being more than what I see?

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200514
Funny how I can look at the face of a child and understand his emotions. That expression on his face tells so much it is a wonder why his father is looking at the opposite direction; his mother unaware of those thoughts running through that illustrious mind.

"Why are we running after a bus that stops for us? Why are you rushing me? Can we slow down for a while?"

Somehow these are the things that speak to me.
Sometimes they are nothing but my own constructed conversations. Other times they are just shadows that catch up to mine, staying for a moment or two in one dark unison before leaving, each spirit touched by one and the other.

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Bismillah
Someday I will leave this place. Once. Then twice.

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