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« on: Feb 17, 2008 06:53 AM »


I Worship My Lord

Author: by Na'ima B. Robert

I wake before dawn.
No muadhin calls me,
No footsteps stir me,
Instead society spurns me,
Labels me and burns me.
But everyday,
I wake before dawn.

I wear my hijab.
No father threatens me,
No religious police warn me,
Instead society judges me
Mocks me and shuns me.
But everyday,
I wear my hijab.

I rear my children.
No family pressures me,
No work barriers limit me,
Instead society shames me,
Names me and blames me.
But everyday,
I rear my children.

I follow the Sunnah.
No culture defines me,
No history holds me,
Instead, society scolds me,
Re-makes and moulds me.
But every day,
I follow the Sunnah.

I strive for Paradise.
No teachers indoctrinate me,
No worldly hardships sedate me,
Instead society rejects me,
Tempts me and affects me.
But every day,
I strive for Paradise.

I worship my Lord.
No imam compels me,
No rules force my heart,
Instead, society fears me,
And dares not come near me.
But every day,
I worship my Lord.

Every day,
In every way,
Through hardship and strife
And the all-consuming,
O so fleeting,
Bitter sweetness of life,
I worship my Lord.
Siham
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« Reply #1 on: Mar 28, 2008 06:54 PM »

The Pious Wife
Abu Jameelah

Marriage to her is one half of the deen,
The benefit Allah has put in her is yet to be seen.
She wears her hijab for her Lord, to please and obey,
She turns to Allah for salaah at least five times each day.

She prays in the night and makes sure to awake you,
And sprinkles you with water if sleep should overtake you.
She protects her chastity with firmness because she does not desire,
To displease Allah and end up in the tormenting fire.

She asks the people who know when matters need to be rectified,
She is not blinded by self righteousness and foolish pride.
She is humble and kind to her husband as Allah has commanded,
Never leaving him alone, isolated, nor stranded.

She opens her mouth only to say what is best,
Not questioning her husband when he makes a request.
She takes care of herself and never ceases to try,
To beautify herself so to please his eye.

She is a pleasure Allah has given to us in this life,
Be thankful to Allaah alone for His blessing, THE PIOUS WIFE.

"Do not treat people with contempt, nor walk insolently on the earth. Allah does not love the arrogant or the self-conceited boaster. Be modest in your bearing and subdue your voice, for the most unpleasant of voices is the braying of the ass." [The Holy Qur'an, Surah Luqman - 31:18-19]
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« Reply #2 on: Jul 04, 2008 08:56 AM »



Let us sit down and believe for a while…

In the dappled sunlight of this June afternoon

Amongst the swaying leaves and the violet bloom

I promise not to ramble on about economic pacts

I will not bore you with depressing trade facts

And partake neither in vain babble nor pretension-

But instead marvel at the exquisite surface tension,

Of a single drop of tender dew

Serenely dripping into view.

.

Sunlight plays delicately on the Noor and grace

That illuminate your gentle face

Oh my friend, let us sit down and believe for a while

Lest we stray towards the less worthwhile

Pursuits and pleasures and lofty attitudes

And conceits and egos of great altitudes-

I would rather be inspired by this beleaguered ant,

Resolutely forging towards the garden plants!

(A noble ant, whether it can make it or it can’t).

.

My friend, let us sit down and believe for a while-

Let us pray Asr and then directly after

Deeply contemplate the nearing Hereafter

And pray and pray and sometimes ruminate

And ask for forgiveness in this humble state.

The trees will securely shade our prostrate forms

Swathed and billowing in cotton storms!

And I hope and hope, and I pray and pray

To be as securely shaded on Judgement Day.

.

My friend, let us sit down and believe for a while

Lest we get caught up in some erring lifestyle

And so do not reflect upon His creation or ponder

And idle away the afternoons in petty squander

No, let us sit down and believe for a while-

No matter what the task or worldly trial.

And may we never come to sorrow at this day’s end

That we spent in prayer with a believing friend-

For we sat down with a smile, we sat down and believed awhile.


`Abdullah ibn Rawahah (RAA), whenever he met one of the Companions of the Prophet (salallahu ‘alayhi wasallam), used to say, "Come, let us believe in our Lord for a while." When the Prophet (salallahu ‘alayhi wasallam) heard about this, he said, "May Allah have mercy on Ibn Rawahah, for he loves the gatherings that the angels feel proud to attend."
hajra
الَسَـــــــلاَمُ عَلَيــْــكُم وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكـَـاتُه
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« Reply #3 on: Sep 04, 2008 06:57 PM »

Ya Allah, I called tonight
To talk a little while
I need a friend who'll listen
To my anxiety and trial.

You see, I can't quite make it
Through a day just on my own...
I need your love to guide me,
So I'll never feel alone.

I want to ask you please Allah to keep,
My family & Friends safe and sound.
Come and fill their lives with confidence
For whatever fate they're bound.

Give me faith, Ya Allah, to face
Each hour throughout the day,
And not to worry over things
I can't change in any way.

I thank you Allah, for being home
And listening to my call,
For giving me such good advice
When I stumble and fall.

Your number, Allah, is the only one
That answers every time.
I never get a busy signal,
Never had to pay a dime.

Thank you, Allah, for listening
To my troubles and my sorrow.
Good night,
Ya Allah, I love You,
And I'll call again tomorrow!
Insha'Allah

Author: Anonymous

Narrated AbuHurayrah:
The Apostle of Allah (peace_be_upon_him) used to say: "O Allah, I seek refuge in Thee from four things: Knowledge which does not profit, a heart which is not submissive, a soul which has an insatiable appetite, and a supplication which is not heard."
hajra
الَسَـــــــلاَمُ عَلَيــْــكُم وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكـَـاتُه
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« Reply #4 on: Sep 22, 2008 04:43 PM »

Poem about Muslimah
(An Excellent poem about the Muslim Woman)


What do you see
when you look at me
Do you see someone limited,
or someone free

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>

All some people can do is just look and stare
Simply because they can't see my hair

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
Others think I am controlled and uneducated
They think that I am limited and un-liberated

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
They are so thankful that they are not me
Because they would like to remain 'free'

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
Well free isn't exactly the word I would've used
Describing women who are cheated on and abused

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
They think that I do not have opinions or voice
They think that being hooded isn't my choice

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
They think that the hood makes me look caged
That my husband or dad are totally outraged

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
All they can do is look at me in fear
And in my eye there is a tear

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
Not because I have been stared at or made fun of
But because people are ignoring the one up above

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
On the day of judgment they will be the fools
Because they were too ashamed to play by their own rules

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
Maybe the guys won't think I am a cutie
But at least I am filled with more inner beauty

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
See I have declined from being a guy's toy
Because I won't let myself be controlled by a boy

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
Real men are able to appreciate my mind
And aren't busy looking at my behind

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
Hooded girls are the ones really helping the muslim cause
The role that we play definitely deserves applause

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
I will be recognized because I am smart and bright
And because some people are inspired by my sight

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
The smart ones are attracted by my tranquility
In the back of their mind they wish they were me

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
We have the strength to do what we think is right
Even if it means putting up a life long fight

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
You see we are not controlled by a mini skirt and tight shirt
We are given only respect, and never treated like dirt

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
So you see, we are the ones that are free and liberated
We are not the ones that are sexually terrorized and violated

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>
We are the ones that are free and pure
We're free of STD's that have no cure

<=><=><=><=><=><=><=><=>

So when people ask you how you feel about the hood
Just sum it up by saying 'baby its all good'
Kiss

Narrated AbuHurayrah:
The Apostle of Allah (peace_be_upon_him) used to say: "O Allah, I seek refuge in Thee from four things: Knowledge which does not profit, a heart which is not submissive, a soul which has an insatiable appetite, and a supplication which is not heard."
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« Reply #5 on: Jan 07, 2009 08:28 PM »

Love of the world, by Maalik

 

It is the right of those supposed to be free that we
but our nose and propose what could lead to be
a change of clothes for clones show them what they need to see
but instead we chose to impose the status quo for peace
and the way they treat us shows they know that we in retreat
this revival goes to show we wont accept defeat
and God only knows how we'll snatch victory
but its already been foretold, a matter been decreed
so all thats left to know, is that do you believe?
are you ready to bleed to achieve, the ability to breathe
can you concieve can you see, what we need to be free
this piece of greed in me, reflects all that we
are taught from infancy, be the richest you can be
and thats the reason given why we should seek
knowledge cuz its the key, to ease and currency
and the fallacy of this theory's no mystery
I swear sometimes its like these people are asleep
zombies or like sheep, tell me what money will you keep
when your buried six feet deep?

 


My Allah guide my son to the righteous path
Mohammed AbdulMaged Elsayed 10/19/08 2months and three weeks
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« Reply #6 on: Jan 07, 2009 08:33 PM »

Baby, it's all good! - A modern hijab poem

Author unknown

What do you see when you look at me
Do you see someone limited, or someone free
All some people can do is just look and stare
Simply because they can't see my hair
Others think I am controlled and uneducated
They think that I am limited and un-liberated
They are so thankful that they are not me
Because they would like to remain 'free'

Well free isn't exactly the word I would've used
Describing women who are cheated on and abused
They think that I do not have opinions or voice
They think that being hooded isn't my choice
They think that the hood makes me look caged
That my husband or dad are totally outraged
All they can do is look at me in fear
And in my eye there is a tear

Not because I have been stared at or made fun of
But because people are ignoring the One up above
On the day of judgment they will be the fools
Because they were too ashamed to play by their own rules
Maybe the guys won't think I am a cutie
But at least I am filled with more inner beauty
See I have declined from being a guy's toy
Because I won't let myself be controlled by a boy

Real men are able to appreciate my mind
And aren't busy looking at my behind
Hooded girls are the ones really helping the Muslim cause
The role that we play definitely deserves applause
I will be recognized because I am smart and bright
And because some people are inspired by my sight
The smart ones are attracted by my tranquility
In the back of their mind they wish they were me

We have the strength to do what we think is right
Even if it means putting up a life long fight
You see we are not controlled by a mini skirt and tight shirt
We are given only respect, and never treated like dirt
So you see, we are the ones that are free and liberated
We are not the ones that are sexually terrorized and violated
We are the ones that are free and pure
We're free of STD's that have no cure

So when people ask you how you feel about the hood
Just sum it up by saying, 'Baby its all good'
 

 

My Allah guide my son to the righteous path
Mohammed AbdulMaged Elsayed 10/19/08 2months and three weeks
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« Reply #7 on: Aug 01, 2009 07:51 AM »

Hira

M.A.R. Habib – United States

For years, the darkness has draped me,
Enshrouded in the high mantle of night.
The darkness of idols, greed in business,
Abuse of orphans, widows, women.
Here, from the mountain, I see the darkness
That enfolds the world. Yet now
Another darkness descends on me,
A beating of wings, shuddering, as if
Beating in my own breath, heart, soul:
Shadow everywhere, shadows, all shadow.
What moment is this, opening into
The very soul of time, what mode of time
Unfolding the very breath of
Eternity. God. Worlds above, worlds
Upon worlds. What weight of universe
Descends upon me, spreading through me,
Breathing into my lips, through my language,
A voice from so high yet so deep within,
Shuddering in Angel breath: O vision
At the edge of vision, wherever I turn
The dark horizon is lit with the form of Angel,
Forcing me, wherever I turn, he stands,
Confronts, blinding, colossal, power of light
Burning before me yet deep within:
Archangel.

All the forces of mountain and desert
Cry into my heart; the black sky
Thunders in my throat:
All the sources of life, all sense, all
Power of reason, of beauty, the sublime
Freeze in this moment, in this cave,
All resources of language, lips, eyes, hands
Flow and freeze in this one command:
Read! Echoing inside me, pounding,
Read! My own voice. I hear
Myself, from deep within:
I cannot, I cannot read.
Again the echo, pressing louder, harder:
Read! The word, the world, bites
In my head, my frame shivering yet
Numb: I cannot read. Read!
And now, I know the power, know
The hour is too great: What shall I read?
Read in the Name of Thy Lord —
My being is cleft as dread
Spreads through this human form:
It is both Night and Day, the desert
Horizon rises to sky, all heaven
Burning over every grain of sand.
And here I stand, man
Transformed, yearning
Shivering, breathless, touched
In spirit, breathing a word.
The Word.

*
The Cave of Hira is located in Mount Nur in Mecca, and was the location of the Prophet Muhammad’s first revelation
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« Reply #8 on: Aug 01, 2009 09:15 AM »

Scents of Direction
Asad Jaleel – United States


A family moves West
Packing up all the sundry items
And traveling over mountain, prairie, and desert
Except the dog
No room in the truck
No pets allowed
One more creature left behind
Days later, boxes unpacked
New roots planted
And at the doorstep
Impossibly, inexplicably
The dog arrives
Having trekked across countless miles
Over mountain, prairie, and desert
Guided only by a familiar scent
And the celebrated canine nose
Nature throws down the gauntlet
See what Spot does for love
A dog can do it, but can you?

The Arabs call the dog — kalb
And they named the heart — qalb
Maybe they were on to something

They also tell a story of Joseph and Jacob
Joseph disappeared and Father Jacob wept
How long would you weep for your lost child?
So much that Jacob’s prophetic eyes went blind
And the vision of a prophet
Includes colors we have never known
When Joseph revealed himself to his brethren
He sent them home with his shirt
The mere scent of Joseph restored Jacob’s vision

Helen Keller called smell
The fallen angel of the senses
Angel indeed
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« Reply #9 on: Oct 07, 2010 05:41 AM »

The Dowdy Muslim
By Novid Shaid, September, 2010
 
There once was a dowdy Muslim
whose face looked clumsy and cold.
She would waddle down the street,
looking down at her feet,
covered up in flowing dark folds.
 
When she trudged on through the markets
or stood in queue like a dull figurine,
the other women so dashing,
with bodies like mannequins,
considered her image obscene!
 
There once was a dowdy Muslim,
whom the men and women thought glum.
“If I looked so poor
I’d lock myself indoors.
She most definitely has no fun!”
 
This woman, she behaved so different,
wrapping her body, shying away from men.
When they peered at her dress,
they thought her oppressed:
“How old-fashioned! And so out of trend!”
There once was a dowdy Muslim,
whom the world around misunderstood.
While the people from her town
gave her disapproving frowns,
in secret she wished them nothing but good.
 
In the night when all were dozing,
she would rise and implore the skies.
Praying for security,
for her cruel community;
gentle tears flowing from her eyes.
 
There once was a dowdy Muslim
whose neighbour was particularly mean,
so offended and repulsed
by this Muslim’s impulse
to obscure herself from being seen.
 
This neighbour was a proud professional,
an aerobics queen, with a facelift.
She went out with a doc,
who made a living from Botox.
Every Friday they went out and got pissed!
 
 There once was a dowdy Muslim,
whose neighbour had a startling dream.
She witnessed her own fate
and awoke in a state,
letting off an ear-splitting scream!
 
This neighbour dreamed she was standing
on a plain with the rest of the world.
Feeling like a silly kid,
she stood there stark naked,
but none noticed or even said a word.
 
But as she stood and gazed around there,
someone caught her eye, standing so tall.
Beautiful as a pearl,
surrounded by whistling angels,
more delightful than a princess at a ball.
 
Now the neighbour was extremely curious,
there was something so obvious and familiar.
So she left her place
from the rows of the human race;
the curiosity was nearly killing her.
 
 When she reached this towering individual,
angels turned to her, so surprised.
They looked at her, up and down
giving her ridiculing frowns:
“Why ever have you left your line?”
 
“Excuse me, but do I know you?”
Gasped the neighbour, up to this glistening head.
When the figure turned it face,
the neighbour’s heart raced
and her spirit was engulfed with dread.
 
For the figure was no other than the Muslim;
her neighbour, the sad, dowdy one.
Now she stood with such grace
pearls and jewels beautifying her face,
as if she were a chosen one.
 
“Where on earth am I?” shouted the neighbour.
“Why am I here, and how come you are suddenly so fine?!”
“Truth has conquered falsehood,”
said the Muslim as she stood,
“inner beauty wins at the end of time.”
 
Then the angels encircled and gambolled
with the Muslim, around and around.
Quick and gentle little sprites,
weaving circles of light
Singing: “she’s the best in town!”
 
“The best!” Woosh!! Woosh!!
“The best”, Woosh!! Woosh!!
“The best in town!”
With a dance and a giggle
And waddle and wiggle,
The holy angels sang: “The best in town!!!”
 
So, there once was a dowdy Muslim,
whom her people cackled:  “What a complete clown!”
But little did they know
of her deep, inner glow
as the hidden voices sang: “The best in town!!!”
 
“She’s the best!” Woosh!! Woosh!!
“The best!” Woosh!! Woosh!!
“The best in town!”
With a dance and a giggle
And a waddle and a wiggle,
the holy angels sang: “The best in town!”
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« Reply #10 on: Oct 10, 2010 12:49 PM »

salam

I don't know who this is by, but a friend sent it to me when I felt low, I thought it was beautiful mashallah.


A Flower of Allah's design

A young, new ustadh (teacher) was walking with an older, more seasoned ustadh (teacher) in a garden one day. Feeling a bit insecure about what Allah had for him to do, he was asking the older ustadh for some advice.

The older ustadh walked up to a rosebush and handed the young ustadh a rosebud and told him to open it without tearing off any petals. The young ustadh looked in disbelief at the older ustadh and was trying to figure out what a rosebud could possibly have to do with his wanting to know the will of Allah for his life and ministry.
But because of his great respect for the older ustadh, he proceeded to try to unfold the rose, while keeping every petal intact. It wasn't long before he realized how impossible this was to do.

Noticing the younger ustadh's inability to unfold the rosebud without tearing it, the older ustadh began to recite the following poem...

It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of Allah's design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.

The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I.
Allah opens this flower so sweetly,
Then in my hands they die.

If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of Allah's design,
Then how can I have the wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?

So I'll trust in Allah for leading
Each moment of my day.
I will look to Allah for His guidance
Each step of the way.

The pathway that lies before me,
Only Allah knows.
I'll trust Him to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose.




Wassalaam

And when My servants question thee concerning Me, then surely I am nigh. I answer the prayer of the suppliant when he crieth unto Me. So let them hear My call and let them trust in Me, in order that they may be led aright. Surah 2  Verse 186
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« Reply #11 on: Jul 21, 2011 11:34 PM »

I received this by email. Its so beautiful, Maasha-Allah!!!

Pray!

Pray in the morning,
Pray in the night.
Pray all through the day,
Pray with all your might.

Allaah is High,
Shaytaan is low.
Keep making salaah,
Through your Deen you'll grow.

It's time for salaah,
Wake-up, wake-up!
Come worship Allaah,
Stand up, stand up.
Time to praise Allaah,
Let's make salaah!

Shoulder to shoulder
That's how we stand.
Stay close together,
Against shaytaan we band.

Allaahu Akbaar!
Alhamdulillaah!
Allaah is Greatest,
All praise due to Allaah!

These words we say
Each time we pray.
We make salaah
Five times a day.
We're bound together
Praying to Allaah.
InshaaAllaah through faith
We will not fall.

Bismillaah ar Rahmaan ar Raheem
Allaah's Most Gracious, Most Merciful
Our King!
We must stand
Against shaytaan.
Come stand with Allaah
For with Him there is no flaw.

Stand up straight
Don't look back.
Beware of Allaah
Keep yourself on track.

Let's keep it going
Don't hesitate.
Allaah demands it
We shouldn't wait.
Worshipping Allaah
Is what we do.
To Allaah Alone
We must be true.

Prayer fills our hearts
With so much love.
So don't delay it
Pray to Allaah Above.

Pray to Allaah
With all your heart.
Let's make a duaa
Come on, I'll lead
Let's start!

Please Allaah forgive me
AstaghfirAllaah.
Please give me imaan
Keep me from shaytaan.

I love Allaah
Yes this is true.
To Him only
All praise is due.

The Almighty Allah says,

"When a servant thinks of Me, I am near.
When he invokes Me, I am with him.
If he reflects on Me in secret, I reply in secret,
And if he acknowledges Me in an assembly,
I acknowledge him in a far superior assembly."

- Prophet Muhammad (SAW), as reptd by Abu Huraira
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« Reply #12 on: Jul 25, 2011 07:13 AM »

Amazing poem.....

=====================

Prayer Rug

By Agha Shahid Ali


Those intervals   
between the day’s   
five calls to prayer

the women of the house   
pulling thick threads   
through vegetables

rosaries of ginger   
of rustling peppers
in autumn drying for winter

in those intervals this rug   
part of Grandma’s dowry   
folded

so the Devil’s shadow   
would not desecrate   
Mecca scarlet-woven

with minarets of gold   
but then the sunset   
call to prayer

the servants
their straw mats unrolled   
praying or in the garden

in summer on grass   
the children wanting   
the prayers to end

the women’s foreheads   
touching Abraham’s   
silk stone of sacrifice

black stone descended   
from Heaven
the pilgrims in white circling it

this year my grandmother   
also a pilgrim   
in Mecca she weeps

as the stone is unveiled   
she weeps holding on   
to the pillars


(for Begum Zafar Ali)
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« Reply #13 on: Aug 03, 2012 05:39 AM »

Yunus Emre (Anatolia, d. 1321 C.a.):

Together with mountains and stones I call upon you, Lord.
Together with the birds in the morning light I call upon you, Lord.
Together with the fish in the river, the deer in the plains,
With a simple mind I call upon you, Lord.
Together with Jesus in heaven, with Moses at the Burning Bush,
Holding to a staff I call upon you, Lord.
With Job's suffering, with Jacob's tears,
With Muhammad's love I call upon you, Lord.
There is the broken world, I left its ruins.
With bare feet, with bare head I call upon you, Lord.
With Yunus's voice, with a nightingales tongue,
With all the faithful ones I call upon you, Lord.
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