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by Rutgers University Muslim Students Association

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Writing for the Soul

A poetry and creative writing column that explores the depths of artistic language and the significance of our connection between the soul and mind.

Heavy

Heavy are the words that roll off a grieving mother’s tongue,
like the black tar that seeps into a smoker’s lung.

Heavy are the hearts that bear the burden of sorrow,
like iron boulders weighing down shoulders until morrow.

Heavy are the minds that fight an invisible oppressive force,
like silent voices shouting until they become hoarse.

Heavy are the worries of a lost nation that walks blindly,
like three lonely mice that wander mindlessly.

Heavy is the sword that the Sword of Allah held,
like the weight of a thousand powerful men on their knees; all quelled.

Heavy is the desire to struggle for the sake of Allah,
like the force of the gushing water of heaven’s rivers that echo Jannah.

Heavy is the love we want to love and be loved by,
like the never ending pain of open wounds that only bring cries.

Heavy are the dreams of the orphans,
like the weight of the world and all of its fortunes.

Heavy are the presence of you and I,
like the gravitational force that confines our minds.

War

War is like a beautiful woman luring in the youth,
Their boots thread the Earth and their hearts desire to reap its fruits.
And when the surge of courage diminishes and the bombs hail high,
Every young soul shall sigh.

War then becomes an old wrinkled, ugly, hag
That no one desires to be with or can hold onto its treacherous battle flag.
There are no more boots left that thread the Earth and no more hearts that desire.
And war has left mothers tears dry and their cries of “ya ibni” held in the heavens up high.

War has left the riches of cities buried under ashes,
And love lost in the midst of smoke from brutal, crimson clashes.
War has spilled blood on the dry Earth like numerous broken wine caskets.
Yet, we yearn war like war is everlasting.

War is a disease that the Prophet ﷺ warned about.
So do not desire it, but if you must be brave and do not doubt.
For as the gates of hell break loose when war is here,
the gates of the seven heavens invite you in as your soul comes near.

Dear Brother

Dear Brother,

I sleep, but I do not rest.
I eat, but I can not taste.
I read, but I do not comprehend.
I miss you like the moon misses the stars.

Continue reading “Dear Brother”

I Love You, I Really Do

I love you

I love you. I really do.
Though sometimes I’m selfish and cruel, don’t forget that I still love you.
I still love you with all of my soul and my heart that is weak with pleasure from seeking you.
I love you, but I don’t know you. I search and search for some type of connection I can find when my knees hit the ground in sujood. I love you, I really do, but I don’t know how to love you.
I don’t know how to connect with you and I don’t know how I can love someone I don’t know.
I love you, I really do.

So, when my actions speak opposite of my words, O Lord, please love me too because my heart is like a fragile crystal glass being shoved in an empty box across a living room.
I love you, I know I do, but I’m waiting for the day that I can truly show you.
Sometimes I don’t feel worthy of all that you do.
Sometimes I gaze at the Quran and choose music over the verses that should be the nourishment for my soul, but I choose music because I don’t know what to do.
It’s not very easy to develop khushoo.
It’s not as easy as those clerical leaders tell you on how to and what not to do.
It’s not simple like black and white, in fact, there are no colors at all.
No colors because each individual picks up the paintbrush of his or her life and paints the colors of this world only guided by the Almighty.

So I sit in this room trying to paint my colors, trying to differentiate between reds and blues, but I can’t.
Ya Allah why can’t I do it?
Why can’t I feel the tremble of my heart and the tears rolling down my cheeks from the beautiful verses that caress my ears?
Why can’t I love you like I’m supposed to?

I love you, I really do, but Ya Allah may you guide me soon and may you make all of our hearts steadfast until the day, the day insh’Allah when “La illah illa Allah” are the last words I say.

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