Poetry & Fiction

I Grieve

Posted by on Nov 21, 2012 in International Affairs, Overcoming Hardships, Poetry & Fiction | 6 comments

I Grieve

I Grieve By: Yasmin Mogahed   I lifted my head Once more Only to see The sun had set, The trees had slept, And they’d all gone home   I grieve.   The sky that was clear is now covered with fog. My path, I no longer see. Why try…when it’s all so gray?   I grieve.     Today I grieve For what’s been lost. My forgotten people, still on their knees before a snow god in spring   I grieve.   They’ve forgotten that prayer And to whom they should call. The Essence replaced by mundane ritual, empty symbols. Their hearts… so tired, jaded and...

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All Were Delivered

Posted by on Nov 8, 2012 in Featured, Overcoming Hardships, Poetry & Fiction | 12 comments

All Were Delivered

All the voices have hushed to a whisper now. The sounds have slept. I rest here in the cocoon of my heart, Waiting for its’ deliverance. They made you think your pain was small. Small to Him… Because it was small to them. Your pain is not small to Him. Your insignificance is in front of Him—but not to Him. You are insignificant before Him. But you are not insignificant to Him. My deliverance will come. He never left any of them in this state. Not Musa, Muhammad, umm Musa, Maryam, Ayoub, Yunus, Yusuf, Yaqoob, Ibrahim, Ismael, Hajar, Aasiya, Nuh.   All were delivered.   My...

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Nameless

Posted by on Oct 2, 2012 in Featured, Personal Development, Poetry & Fiction, Spirituality | 28 comments

Nameless

Nameless By: Yasmin Mogahed There’s salvation in admitting defeat. The peace of prostration. Just stay still in that position, With your head lowered. Freeze. Wait. Stay humbled. Wait. Stay lowered. Until He raises you. They’ve searched the world for what can be found in the quietest corners of a room. They search a million words for what can only be found in silence. They create a million names for the nameless. For what can only be found in wordless thought. Nameless states. Stop letting it own you. Let it go. Let it go for Him and He will honor you. He will raise you. I looked on...

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Have Mercy on Me, My Soul

Posted by on Sep 16, 2012 in Other, Poetry & Fiction | 3 comments

Have Mercy on Me, My Soul

This has been my favorite poem for the last 15 years: Have Mercy on Me, My Soul Why are you weeping, my Soul? Knowest thou my weakness? Thy tears strike sharp and injure, For I know not my wrong. Until when shalt thou cry? I have naught but human words to interpret your dreams, Your desires, and your instructions. Look upon me, my Soul; I have consumed my full life heeding your teachings. Think of how I suffer! I have exhausted my life following you. My heart was glorying upon the throne, But is now yoked in slavery; My patience was a companion, But now contends against me; My youth was my...

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Break Free

Posted by on Mar 21, 2012 in Featured, Poetry & Fiction, Reflections, Spiritual Purification, Yasmin's Online Journal | 10 comments

Break Free

I close my eyes and dream quietly of breaking free. I dream of breaking every single chain that has ever held me. I cut them. I throw glass cups against the wall. Every vase shatters, and then I’m set free. Free. I will own love. Love will never own me. To break free is the only object of life. Every up. Every down. Every turn. Every stab. Every pleasure. Every pain. Every loss. Every gain. Every broken chain. Was just to allow your entire heart, mind, soul and being to realize la illah illah Allah. Tell this imprisoned soul that it will never be owned. Nothing will ever own you. But...

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I Greive

Posted by on Feb 25, 2012 in Poetry & Fiction | 5 comments

I Grieve By: Yasmin Mogahed I lifted my head Once more Only to see The sun had set, The trees had slept, And they’d all gone home I grieve. The sky that was clear is now covered with fog. My path, I no longer see. Why try…when it’s all so gray? I grieve. Today I grieve For what’s been lost. My forgotten people, still on their knees before a snow god in spring I grieve. They’ve forgotten that prayer And to whom they should call. The Essence replaced by mundane ritual, empty symbols. Their hearts… so tired, jaded and worn I grieve. We are a people defeated…but not...

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