Thursday, 25 October 2012


I tremble at my prayers
Grand nights and even grander dreams
My hope is such that it swells religiously
A porcelain cup collecting rain and tears just the same

It terrifies me that you have forgotten
To put the cup out tonight and that
Your collection is running dry
But I always have extra, enough
To fill your cup to the brim too

I fumble my lines because this
Bird's wings are clasped tight
So I press keys at midnight
Editing poetry on my phone
The difficulty gushes , winded
Do I dare press send

The best of nights,
Pink skies and blackness bright
I am assured the cup was filled
His mercy finding, woefully cupped
Hands that sought for you too
For you first
Your reply is unrecognized
Shards lodged in palms
And I, I am unable to comprehend
When will your heart perceive
The dryness , the thirst

“If you trust Allah completely, He will provide for you as He provides for the birds. In the morning they leave hungry and return full at the evening.”

There is at night an hour, no Muslim happens to be asking Allah any matter of this world or the Hereafter, except that he will be given it, and this (occurs) every night.'

'The best supplication is the supplication on the day of Arafat'.  
Tirmidhi and Malik

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