Ya Zainab

The sun is setting, ya Zainab
do you remember?
Just like Karbalaa
the sky is weeping, again..

It feels your pain, ya Zainab
and cries in unison with you
but no
no..
Under this red sky you have no true abode
and you are ultimately alone.

Tell me about your sufferings, ya Zainab
Is that Aun and Mohammad's empty mattress?
Tell me, what did they do to you?
Show me the face they beat, ya Zainab
and the tears they induced.

What is that you are hearing, ya Zainab?
The echo of Sakinah's desperate cry?
No, Zainab, no
She is gone too.

Is that Husayn's smiling face you see?
No no
It's the brother that your grandfather wept over, as he was born.

Where will you go, ya Zainab?
Rasool is gone, long gone
and Sajjaad is broken in body and soul.

Run into the desert
run, ya Zainab
and cry like you never have before
Cry so that the fountain of rage and hurt escapes you, ya Zainab
My lady, what has happened?
Why do you feel shame?
Cry so that even the headless body of Husayn hears you
Cry so that if Abbaas had hands, he would raise them in supplication for you.
Cry so that Rasool feels the pain as he rests in Madinah

My lady, she has come to comfort you
Can you see her in the distance?
This is what you need, ya Zainab
Go and embrace her arms
and tell her your sufferings
Embrace her, ya Zainab
for she has come to you at last.

~Fatima~

Aliyyun Ameeri

How will he not form the basis of criterion,
Between faith and hypocrisy;
When it is he,
For whom the Kaabah split open its walls
in recognition of his approach,
and the sun retraced its steps
to allow him time to pray?
As a lad of ten, he declared his support for Rasul,
and became as Aaron was to Moses.
The victorious lion of Allah,
Whose sword dispensed only justice.
The instrumental son of Islam,
who swept the idols off their perches -
when the Kaabah was freed.

The mark of this prince is upon his forehead,
the mark of the earth.
When he entered salah, he died in the world,
yet remained a servant of the creatures of Allah.
Alive to and responding to their calls of distress,
even as he bowed down in prayer.

No ink can describe, or words capture,
the essence of one whose devotion is praised in the heavens.
One can only strive to love him,
in his heart, his words and his deeds;
For this is he,
who has found Allah to be exactly as he would wish,
and strove to be,
and became,
as Allah would wish.

What will the follower say, when asked of this man,
whoencompassed the manifestation
of all human perfection,
without becoming divine?
What will he explain, when asked of his love,
Except plead:
"May Allah reveal his love to me!"
What then will the believer say, when asked to describe
The brother, successor and supporter of the Prophet.
The one whose face Satan cannot dare look at,
Who has bowed down to none other than Allah
Except whisper his love, with tears in his eyes,
and proclaim to the world:
"Aliyyun Ameeri, wa ni'mal Ameer!"

Unconquered

Every dark and gloomy tunnel you ever walked through will
eventually become sheer radiance and encompassing light
that blinds you and keeps you in oblivion.
Every ruthless being that shot arrows at your heart will eventually become
a figure of inspiration,
and someone who was pure gold.
Every piercing breeze that was harsh to your cheeks
and didn't care about those lips will eventually become the caressing spring breeze
that envelops the couple that embraces amidst the crowd.
Every sordid, dilapidated city street that your feet left a mark on,
eventually turns into a labyrinth of roses,
seducing you as the intoxicating scent tousles every fiber of your being.
Every cynical experience you ever encountered
will eventually prove to be that which stains and marks you for the better,
and plants the seed of optimism within you.
Every disfigured image your eyes laid upon
eventually becomes the most gracious blessing that will place you in ultimate bliss
as you stare in euphoria.
Every fall you painfully experienced
eventually blooms into a series of praise;
numbing you ravenously to the world.
Every tear that ever fell unaccompanied by another touch to caress and wipe it away
eventually turns into a bullet of bravery,
and beamingly places you in the hall of fame of ruthless survival.
Every failure you painstakingly felt at the hands of paper
eventually becomes the poet's ink that journeys over the sea's horizon
and comes back to solace you with its untold tale.
Every cold, livid body that you witnessed on your path will
eventually scream life and bloom like the seedling
after interminable rain.
And every time your head ritually meets the floor and renews its vows with the Divine,
eventually disintegrates the devil in his disheveled abode
and draws you closer to the scent of the Lord
who undeniably embraces the servant at every deed. 

~Fatima~