God, grant me serenity to accept things I cannot change, courage to change things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.

At the end of my shift today, I gathered my things, clocked out, and made my way to the hospital chapel to pray Asr.

The doors slid open and as I stepped inside, I noticed a middle-aged woman sitting in the front row. She didn't look up as I entered, and I went to pull out a prayer mat from the small chest in the back. Just as I set my things down and positioned the mat to begin prayers, she turned around in her seat and sobbing loudly, cried out, 'Will you please pray with me? I don't want to be alone anymore. Please come pray with me..' 

Startled, I realized she was talking to me. Without hesitating, I went and sat down next to her, unsure of what to do next. She grabbed both my hands in hers and implored me to pray with her as she sobbed to God to save her best friend and sister. I firmly held her hands as she leaned against me and cried. I helplessly racked my brain for what to say that could ease this woman's distress. I didn't know the protocol for Christian prayers. Some people always know the right thing to say at the right time, but words often fail me... sometimes they're inadequate in face of such grief. So I sat in silence and let her cry - tears are cathartic. 

After several minutes, her crying subsided and she lifted her head and began thanking me. 

I cut her off, smiled and reassured her everything would be alright, for her to have faith and be strong.

She took hold of my hand again and said, 'You're Muslim aren't you? I said some bad things about you people. I'm really sorry you're not a bad person.'

Her confession took me by surprise and I smiled. 

'No,' I replied. 'I'm Muslim and I'm not a bad person. And you're Christian and you're not a bad person either. I think more than bad people in the world, are good people who do bad things.'  The woman's niece entered the chapel, and I patted her back and rose. 

Letting her take over the task of comforting her aunt, I went back to pray.

January 2009 - Poems

HEART OF THE BELIEVER

(dedicated to the people of Palestine)

What a dreary day it must have been 
the day they declared Hope died 
certainly in passing, time stood still 
listening as the breeze forlornly sighed 

the weeping willow surely weeped 
and some swear the heavens cried 
for the nightingale had ceased to sing 
because it's tears had not yet dried 

the marjorams shriveled disconsolately 
even the daffodils were robbed of their dew 
I hear the wild iris withered slowly away 
as great many begonia dwindled to a few 

many grieved inconsolably, convinced 
all had been lost that they cherish 
they did not know they were blatantly lied to 
because its obvious Hope did not perish. 

It is alive. 

It survives where peace and justice prevail 
And in the promise of an innocent child 
It is evident in simple acts of kindness 
And in the curve of a sanguine smile 

It is displayed in the triumph of courage 
And a right obliterating past wrongs 
It lives in the re-establishment of dignity 
For the oppressed who overcame great odds 

It resides where tolerance abolishes hatred 
And where truth has conquered the deceivers 
Hope rests on tongues that utter the shahada 
And it flourishes in the hearts of the Believers. 

(c) znc 1.09 

-------

DARKEST HOUR

(For SM)

Walking in the valley of the shadow of death 
Fear no evil, only God 
They say there's six million ways to die 
I say for each man, only one 
At time predetermined 
So live your life 
Like every minute is the last 
Make a prayer, 
Let go of the past 
Find peace, firmly hold fast 
Look forward 
To what lies ahead 
Beyond paths yet to be tread 
Be among the followed 
Not the led. 
Everyone has demons to conquer at times 
You have yours 
I've had mine 
When darkness rears its head 
At midnight's hour don't succumb 
Summon willpower lying dormant within 
Strike it dead 
Pride is your shield 
Courage your best defense 
Hold your head up high 
Jump the fence 
If you fall, get back up 
Dust yourself off and try again 
And again 
Until you succeed. 
Envision in your mind 
Destination in sight 
At tunnel's end, 
Discernible light 
Don't lose hope 
Fight the good fight 
Like the Spartans defeated Trojans 
After Paris abducted Helen 
Achaeans challenged immorality 
Avenged wronged right. 
Remain steadfast 
Find solace in faith 
Deflect criticism cast 
Maintain dignity and honor 
Too often pawned 
Don't be discouraged, you will win 
For the battle must be won 
And always remember 
Night is truly darkest 
Just before dawn. 

(c) znc 1.09 

-------

February 2009 - Poems

ALL THAT GLITTERS

All that glitters is not gold 

Is that how the saying goes 
Thats not what some people say 
If it glitters then it must be gold 
And everyones buying in 
So if you're selling, consider it sold. 
Its the folly of men 
To want to be big superstars 
Own fifteen mansions, drive luxury cars 
Rolexes TAG Heuers Movados 
Airs of assumed bravado 
Properties around the globe 
In cities near and far 
Beautiful women at beck and call 
Extravagant parties 
Lavish affairs, free for all. 
And every girl wants to be 
The envy of all women 
Fur coats, iced wrists, crushed linen 
Beemers benzes Q45 to the infinite 
Capital One visas where the sky's the limit 
Conditioned beauty artificially maintained 
Thick lashes, flawless skin, 
Slender figures personally trained 
Vacationing in the Maldives 
Blue water white sand soft breeze 
Moss Lipow sunglasses, tan top, white capris 
Rocking all the designer labels 
Bvlgari pradas hermes Fendis 
Only the finest Italian leather 
Give them the best cuz it can't get better 
Than this 
Sheer bliss 
What do you mean, they ask 
What you don't have 
Is in fact possible to miss 
Whoever says what I have is not gold 
Is a fool jealous 
That they don't possess 
Everything I own 
Of course all I have glitters good as gold 
And I deserve it all and more ten-fold 
The price you ask? 
The devil didn't ask for much in return 
Only conscience and soul. 
(c) znc 2.09

-----

YESTERDAY'S WHISPERS 

Under pale moonlight after night falls 
The world sleeps soundly while he lies awake 
Studying shadows cast on unadorned walls 
He reminisces of a love he cannot forsake 

The lone wind wails, an unwelcome intruder 
Lamenting tales of betrayal and heartache 
Coyly along corridors, its echoes softly whisper 
Mocking of a past he cannot escape 

Until yesterday love was the only truth he knew 
A maxim that would prevail despite any cost 
But fate dissented, and circumstance was a foe 
His beloved is gone and he is now lost 

A foghorn signals dutifully, warning of impending peril 
Thunder claps in the distance, then solemn hush ensues 
A weary soul wistfully sighs, restless and remorseful 
Yearning for elusive peace that in vain he pursues 

Tonight the night is a fair-weather friend 
Cloaking crystalline tears on ashen cheeks 
In the reassuring comfort of its ample bosom 
He seeks oblivion under guise of sleep. 
(c) znc 2.09

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXVQjEOhfAk&feature=player_embedded

On authority of Abu Musa al-Ashari (ra) the Prophet (pbuh) said: A good friend and a bad friend are like a perfume-seller and a blacksmith. The perfume-seller might give you some perfume as a gift, or you might buy some from him, or at least you might smell its fragrance. As for the blacksmith, he may singe your clothes, and at the very least you will breathe in the fumes of the furnace.

Friends on that Day will be enemies one to another, except al-Muttaqoon (the pious). [Qur'an 43:67]

-----

Sometimes you meet people that leave an enormous impact on you. They have such character about them – such conscience, beauty, and wit… outstanding adaab (mannerisms) and a kind heart with a capacity to love and give without any expectations of receiving in return. 
I’ve been so fortunate to have met a few such individuals in my life. These people have a noor (light) about them, their faces glow with light and their eyes sparkle with an abundant love for Allah (swt) and His beloved Rasool (pbuh). They have a calm, patient demeanor about them, as if they can endure the most difficult trials and persevere without losing hope because they have unwavering faith. A peace surrounds them, and when they speak of the deen, you intently listen, hoping to glean any insight and wisdom they proffer. They are humble and modest, deflecting praise lavished upon them to the Almighty and our Prophet (pbuh). And when these individuals smile while passionately speaking of the beauty of Islam, our Rab (God) and His Rasool (pbuh) (messenger), the radiant joy on their faces is blinding and palpable enough to melt even the hardest jaded hearts. 
I had a conversation with one such person very recently, and am still struck by what a beautiful person she is, inside out. If only everyone can be so fortunate to partake of the company of these select few who help instill in the hearts a love for our amazing deen and encourage by word and deed to become better Muslims and people. I count myself blessed to have had my life enriched by having had them be a part of it. I doubt they fully realize how much joy and inspiration they bring to others simply by being themselves.

I think the danger for people with an absolutist interpretation of scripture is that they are blinded as opposed to guided by the light of God. - Sh Hamza Yusuf

And that is the secret of this world. If you remove love of dunya (world) from your heart, the dunya is yours for the taking. You can have the dunya because it's in your hand and not in your heart. - Sh Hamza Yusuf

----

One of my favorite Sheikhs of all-time is Sheikh Hamza Yusuf. Sh Hamza (born in 1960 as Mark Hanson in Walla Walla, Washington) is an Islamic

scholar. He was raised in Northern California in a Greek Orthodox family, the son of two US academics. At the age of 17, in 1977, he became a Muslim and subsequently traveled to the Muslim world and studied for ten years in the U. A. E., Saudi Arabia, as well as North and West Africa. He received teaching licenses in various Islamic subjects from several well-known scholars in various countries. After ten years of studies abroad, he returned to the USA and took degrees in Religious Studies and Health Care. He has traveled all over the world giving talks on Islam. He also founded Zaytuna Institute which has established an international reputation for presenting a classical picture of Islam in the West and which is dedicated to the revival of traditional study methods and the sciences of Islam. Sh Hamza is the first American lecturer to teach in Morocco's prestigious and oldest University, the Karaouine in Fes. In addition, he has translated into modern English several classical Arabic traditional texts and poems. Sh Hamza currently resides in Northern California with his wife and five sons. 

More info on Sh Hamza:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamza_Yusuf

* One of my favorite lectures given by Sh Hamza:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WfEIGw8NtNA

The sun never says to the earth: You owe me. 

Look what happens with a love like that - it lights up the entire sky.

AlMustafa the chosen and beloved, waited 12 years in the city of Orphalese before his ship finally returned to take him back to his birth isle. Before departing, he held audience with the townspeople who seeked his knowledge... 

Then Almitra said, Speak to us of love. And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. and with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep. and when his wings enfold you yield to them, though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. and when he speaks to you believe in him, though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. for even as love crowns you so shall he crucify. even as he is your growth so is he your pruning. even as he ascends to your height, so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth..all these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart. but if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasures, then it is better for you that you pass out of love's threshing-floor into the seasonless world where you shall laugh but not all your laughter and weep, but not all of your tears.

And a woman spoke and said, Tell us of pain. And he said:
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding...and could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than our joy, and you would accept the seasons of your heart, and you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief. 

Then Almitra said, And what of marriage? And he answered saying:
You were born together and together you shall be forevermore. but let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. love one another, but make not a bond of love; let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. fill each other's cups but drink not from one cup. give one another of your loaf but eat not from the same loaf. sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each of you be alone, even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.and stand together yet not too near together, for the pillars of the temple stand apart, and the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each others' shadow.

Then Almitra spoke, saying We would now ask of death. And he said:
You would know the secret of death. but how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life? the owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of the night. if you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. for life and death are one, even as the river and sea are one. in the depths of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond; trust your dreams for in them is hidden the gate to eternity. your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor...what is it to die, but to stand naked in the wind, and to melt into the sun. and what is to cease breathing but to free the breath from its restless tides that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered.

And a woman said, Speak to us of joy and sorrow. And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. and the selfsame well from which your laughter rises is oftentimes filled with your tears. and how else can it be? the deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain...when you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find that it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. when you are sorrowful look again into your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight...