Sunday, 8 May 2011

Mother

This poetry is from Br Abdullah Mace of USA
For ALL the women and mothers we love  so much 


Cilup! Baah
Br Abdullah Mace says on Mother's Day - 




You know I’m not too big on any holiday 
But do believe each Mother should have her day 

Whether she’s a baby’s mama, daughter or wife 

She’s the one to be sure that gave each man his life. 
I am innocent, Mother!
Paint me white
or paint me black,
what is important is
your eternal love and blessing
There ain't enough days in a year to say
Just how much we really love you.
So please accept it from us today
In case we forgot and missed a few.

There’s no doubt in my mind
Without you I’d be another man.
Cause for me you’re one of a kind
Tho’ there’s a “you” for every other man.

Speaking for myself of course
And millions like me who also rejoice
In this same feeling that I have
Each one of us has a loving mother, sister, daughter…
or just a better half.

We thank you all for always being there
From the 9 before day one ‘til now.
Without you we wouldn’t be anywhere
And there wouldn’t be any tomorrow.

We love you for so many things
The ones that are big and small.
Each day begins with what your love brings
And it seems to never stop at all.

Each day is every Mother's day
Just as sure as we each have a birthday
And fo sho THAT you can believe
Cuz thru you this life we did receive.

So here’s a toast to every Mother
On Every Mother’s Day
We love you like no other
Today, tomorrow and everyday.





Sheikh Abdullah Mace (as posted in Facebook on May 8, 2011 - Jamadil Akhir 5, 1432)


Because of you, therefore I am....
I love you Mama


"O Allah, Forgive me and my parents, bless them both with Your Mercy, Kindness and Love as they both protect and love me when I was small" Prayer of Nabi  SAW extracts from The Lofty Readings.




To All my dearest sisters and all mothers wherever you may be....Happy Mothers Day and always remember that in your hands are the fate and destiny of this beautiful planet earth...When all of you are good, this world is paradise but when ANYONE of you is bad, this heaven will turns upside down. Thus spoken, in this august day please hug your husband amourously and kiss your kids tenderly. I love you All and I pray that God be Merciful to to you and guide you always ---Ibn Hisyam 

Friday, 1 April 2011

My Inspirations

The Winds Beneath My Wings....Flying Kite
In The Park On A Sunday
Lifeguard On Duty
The Gentleman
Oblivious
ET & Rizal Walking To The Clubhouse
Just Pretend I Did Not Hear Them Calling Me
PHP Pond
Sweet Dreams


The Love Oracle
What is this life

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

William Henry Davies
1871-1940

Are we so caught up with fire-fighting that we forget to enjoy life? Do we burrow ourselves in mundane issues so that we don't have to face difficult ones? Life is too short to be squandered away. Every moment is precious, so make the most of it. 

Thursday, 24 March 2011

My Baby, My Little Prince Of Paradise

Muhammad Amir Rizwan
by Nur Izzaty


My baby, my little prince of paradise
when he pokes my eyes and pulls my ears
pinches my nose with his little fingers
He just wants a bottle of de-deh,
with a big hug and love kisses

My baby, my little prince of paradise
When he bangs his head on my lips
I was bleeding but my heart wasn't hurts
I smile and look at him, “This is how you love me!”

My baby, my little prince of paradise
wants little hugs in the mornings
Singing lullaby in the evenings
In his slumber I kiss him with love and blessings

My baby, my little prince of paradise
smiling and walking towards me in little steps
kissing my cheeks with his pouted wet lips
with his little words he whispers, “I love you, Daddy!”


The Pearls
You give bananas to monkeys
You give pearls to women
You give knowledge to students
You give wisdom to teachers
The Secrets you only give to Masters

Monday, 21 March 2011

Song Of A Stray Cat

A Stray Cat By The Fountain In Cordova, Spain

I was once a young engineer
I have fortunes, position and power
I thought I was a good tinker
but really I was a slave to my own career

I later become a businessman to make mountains of money
Gallantly I charted my own destiny but I soon quit the journey
when I saw the success and the crimes
lurking behind all the dimes

That's how I become a thinker
No regret although I end up a pauper
I want to change the world and repair its seams
with ambitions and dreams

Not by my own design now that I join the gardeners
savouring all your Signs and your various Colours
kissing the fragrance of roses with my other harvesters
planting flowers; learning from the birds, the trees and the bees
sipping the sweetness of honey in the early morning breeze

O Most Glorious Designer
In this Garden of creatures
You teach me to be a slave amongst your many slaves
but a cat I am now so wounded, crippled yet thankful to live
licking my wounds, sweating; drinking from the fountain of Love
fulfilling my journey towards Unity

I am yours O Magnanimous Destiny
because of You now I am a wanderer
although just another creature bonded by Eternity
I am now free to wonder 
Bravery, Bold by Liyafendi
Pure Beauty, Blooming Innocence by Liyafendi 
Photo Arts compliments of Liyafendi Studio, Tsukuba Japan

Saturday, 12 March 2011

The Woman Behind The Veils

"Your tent is ready. One shall not go without bath for more than three days so go refresh yourself. There is fresh cloth, toothbrush and perfume you can use them. Please join us for the feast when you finish, insya Allah." The keeper says as he motions a nod, a signal for someone to show me the way to the tent. 

I was away for 15 years but I did have my regular wash except for the time when I was in the woods where the lake is too far and no streams nearby. 

A beautiful young maiden appears. Her blooming fairness on her face where her cheeks are blushing like cherry blossoms is a sight to behold. I am aware that The Keeper who is more than a father to me is studying my reaction from the corner of his eyes.
There are two soldiers escorting her. One is thin, of fair skin with friendly disposition and the other one is dark skinned endowed with generous muscles, taller and fierce looking.

It is by traditions that all the women folks in the garden are not to wear perfumes but as she greets me, her fragrance overwhelms my sensitive nose. I am familiar with the likeness and now she has no veil covering her face. She was politely well with manners, with very beautiful pair of soft turquise blue eyes.

"This is our beloved sister Jamilah. You shall go with her now!" The keeper's commanding whisper into my ears awaken my eyes from savouring the enchanting  perfection in front of us.

In my haste I forget to take leave from the old keeper as I usually do  as show of respect and endearment for the man who in my life is the dearest person. This incident would later becomes a favourite example in my discourse to students of my own who aspire to lead a life as slaves. 


Purity of intention and actions in the face of calamities and fortunes. One is always awaken by calamities but with fortunes not many can remember how fortunate one is. Blind to the gifts, nay even forgetful   when taking things for granted.

"Be always on guard that our Lord grants Iblis the power to be invisible and can enter your blood vessels. He enters your body through the eyes to stir up desires. However he is powerless over hearts that are sincere and empty of wants! Lower your gaze always so he will not enter you." The Keeper says.


I know for sure that the first glance is permissible but the subsequent looks are from devilish blood in the veins that can blur vision and judgement. The sight of the straying beholder can only be redeem by pouring molten silver onto his eyes. 


Truly the eyes are windows to all kinds of heart's desires and wants; beauty, golds, status et cetera et cetera the list contents is as long as one eyes can see. Only two types of desires are admirable and the rests are all burners burning one with envy and jealousy enveloping one's soul like dark clouds before a hurricane.

The young maiden is now walking gracefully behind me and our two escorts are trailing behind her. I slowed down so we are now abreast but she was trying very hard to avoid my nearness. I can feel the great strains of discomfort running inside her although I harbour no ill intention whatsoever towards her. Far from it I am not  one who likes to earn the displeasure of the keeper who loves her very much.

"We met before?" I asked her, attempting to recall my memory of the occasion. Her fragrance lingers on filling up the entire garden but as I find out sooner than expected she is one who never perfume herself except for her husband. Even so her perfumes are not the types that are put in little bottles such as one see in many marketplace.
  
"Yes!" She stopped her paces to answer without even looking at me. 


Still in extreme politeness yet the single word she utters is so stern. The perfect beauty with certainty and so strong in her seductive demeanour. The veil on her face is on with small transparent windows around her eyes. I can't see her but she can see me through it! It is so unfair but for very good reason that is defense for the cupid arrows against the weakness of  man. 


To contain is better than to control. Prevention is better than cure. No. Not few but many good men falls and some turns into stones by the gaze of Aphrodite.


Modesty is sacred and when it is carelessly reveal nothing will be left to imaginations thereafter gone is all  the mysteries that are intriguing to the minds. All interests will be abandon for the funs are no longer exist. If the interest is still there what remains is only Lust but not Love. Lust which is a form of desires of the eyes  is like wild fire, it is hot only at the beginning then turn into coals, worthless. Love is like water, it is not only thirst-quenching but it nourishes our body and spirits. Lusts or desires are temporal where love is unifying, eternal and indestructible.


"Sir, you should walk in front. It is not proper for me to lead you!" She gestures for me to lead her. There is no softness in her voice. Her hands moved then lowered impersonating A Girl Called Jeannie except hers I feel is without  the smile to hint any affection towards me. 


Her full long gown in light green  with brocades of precious stones sprinkle on her shawl and the lower arms of her garment make her chaste body luminiscence in vibrant colors. All the flowers in the huge garden pale in comparison.

Protocols always put me off but this protocol standing infront of  me I can't  live without. She is merely obeying the traditions of the garden that ladies are to walk behind men but this time around I am really in the dark about the whereabout of the tent.

"I am still learning here and it seems to me that you have made it. That is the more reason for you to  lead! I honestly think that you should show me the way since you know better than me where the tent is!" My reply is gentle but the tone is slightly out of character for which I am well-known.

I dont really know if it was the tone or the way I string my words to get her to disarm but certainly the words must have relieve her for I can feel her warmth that is all to familiar to me now. Not much later in bed together she reveals that her uneasiness is of a different kind and that her pretty smile never leaves her since the day one of the keeper's wives tell her the news that I am coming to pay a  visit to the garden.


She walks on my left side almost abreast but behind me not too far unlike before. One of the guard, the thin one overtakes me only to lift up one of the flaps which unfolds as the opening into the tent. 


She gives greeting for permission to leave that sounds more like her when she was a little girl, and in a hurry but quietly she closes the flaps and left after  giving some orders to the guards outside.


The spartan tent is spacious with no bed as it is common here with all the rest of the tents in the garden. The square walls have two windows that opens or closes by simply putting or removing their wooden supports. Carpets and some pillows in matching colours fill up the space with a modest two-seater sofa and big baskets made of rattan nicely arranged by the sides of iits armrests. In one corner there is a study table crafted of solid wood that comes with a chair that is equally tasteful as it is comfortable to sit on. A bookshelf completes the section with two cushions in soft beige leather thrown in on the floor. A lamp from Turkey with fresh candle inside its glass and bronze frames decorates the table top. A rope ties itself to a wall and when one pulls it, two flaps separate to form a window to the sky. 


The study is simply beautiful like a piece of artwork. Either the decorator is an avid reader or maybe its the keeper's order for he knows me well that I prefer burying myself with books than doing menial tasks in the garden.

The wash area is made up by one medium size vessels and an aluminium jug to scoop the water that is inside it. A mirror hangs to the lower end of one  pole of the tent where at its feet I find the toothbrush, towel and soaps on a wooden chest. Some bricks are placed on the earth floor near where the vessel is for someone to wash himself with much care so as not to splash the water too much or else the tent will get wet.
A moveable but heavy square tub made of marbles and tiles occupies the rest of the area which is separated from the main chamber by a simple flowery curtains or two-flaps as I prefer to call them. This tub bothers me because I prefer a splash in the river nearby. This tent has curtains which are nice but bothersome for me to wash. 


All the signs telling me that all these things come from a woman touch and not the keeper's wish. Since she was a little girl unlike some other girls her age she likes to spend time reading all kinds of books she could obtain by permission from the keeper's library. But the tub has always been one of the keeper's collections although he really never has any use of it. 


"Be not like those folks who have eyes but blind have ears but deaf and minds they never think! They make their sublime status lower than beasts!"


The time has come. I see her beautiful loving eyes and her soft creative hands inside this tent. If before I am a little hesitant I am now fully loaded with signs and signals so I take out the handcrafted gold ring and the pearls necklace from my safe and put them inside a nice little  chest made of sandal woods together with some gold coins.  

Signals are very clear and everywhere unless you truly are blind. Even so without eyes, the sense of smell sometimes help unless you are also not bless with both eyes and nose there is still your ears. Unless this hearing aids too are useless then you should still be thankful that you are still alive.

That is the way of the keeper's traditions. Soft to the souls and touching to the hearts that one cannot help but to surrender oneself to love him. That is the way here in this garden. Every single thing has meaning to it. Powerful meanings behind subtle words. Signs and clear signals are orders to follow. Ears, Eyes and Minds are supreme translators. I see and  I hear therefore I think. When I think thence I am free to choose to submit or to defy. This is the science of the senses which in itself is an art one must learn to perfect. The art of listening and obeying is a mandatory skill to sharpen and master until the end. This is the only path to full conviction.


 I now am ready for her as she is ready. I surely am a fool if I cant read her signals.

Friday, 11 March 2011

The Keeper Of The Fountain

He planted the seeds yet he was not a gardener. Neither was he a harvester. I know him for certain that he is The Keeper of The Fountain and The Master of all the King's slaves in the garden. He is also The Last Gate of Eternal Wisdom who stands taller than the fountain itself which stood even taller than all the fountains in all the gardens in the universe. Surrounded by thousands of slaves that sit around to learn their trades from The Keeper, The Fountain is almost always hidden from view if not for the signs of water that overflows from the uppermost tier.

"O Beloved Master, this trade I am now learning I am not scared that I maybe wronged as much as I fear doing wrongs to others!" I lamented my heart contents to him.

"By removing a thorn in the garden path so others may be safe from its harm? Or just watering the flowers here in this garden so the worms will get wet?" He replies smiling, the light of  his handsome face so radiant like a full moon. His row of pearly white teeth just barely visible as  a thin shiny line; even the whitest of pearls from the islands of Juju would pale in comparison. The sweetness of his smile so sweet that the sweetest of honey in the garden is envious. 

It is hard to imagine or else to believe that this gentlest of all creations when he first arrived at this very garden he was pelted with stones, faeces and carcasses by children, men and women alike not excluding his own family and tribe who not only torture but disown him as well.

"Sir! With your permission I shall crush them all with those mountains of rocks!" Jibril, his ever loyal guide and protector asked of him.

Instead he forgives them all and prays earnestly to the King who sends him to the garden, his trimmed beard drenched with tears of love from his sincere supplications to The Most Merciful Lord that He may open up their hearts to know Him and love Him.

Now these very same people, their sons and daughters are all here by the fountain in the garden. Some are guards ready to serve him at a moment notice and still some of those who gather around him would just sit there to listen to his stories and parables which are all lessons in truths. Whilst some are happily playing with their mates and children, others group around raised dais sipping jasmine tea mixed with honey and lemon flavoured with essence of rose. 

"Let moderation be your garb. Avoid excessiveness for the King loves not those who are excessive!" He proclaims with gentle gestures of his hand. His pair of loving eyes looking into the hearts of his attentive companions and audiences. His depth of knowledge and wisdom is unsurpassed as he is learned by The King Himself to whom he surrender completely his soul and affairs. 

"Enough for us that The Lord is always by our sides with His Favours for there is no other power stronger than the Lord's Power who is The King over all the kings!"

The Keeper's sincerity, truthfulness and humility are witnesses to his unwavering faith in The Lord's Mercy and Love  to all His creations. He encourages all his companions and all the slaves in the garden to take lessons even from Enemy. Often reminding us all to offer mercy to all the vanquisheds instead of curses and revenges but only for The King's sake. For that is The Order Of The Lord Himself who deputises him the garden. When he walks about the garden people would bow their heads and those sitting down would risen to welcome him. He firmly disallows such shows of respect always preferring more to the simple salutations of Peace.

"Do not raise both hands and bow to me  like in the days of  decadence. Let us not imitate the salutations of those ignorants who are of the West. I am but a slave and the son of a slave! Instead greet each other with greetings of Peace from the Almighty and Most Compassionate King of all kings!" He admonishes with a little smile. Although many similar incidents cause him to grieve, he handles them without the slightest signs of temper, of which he is wellknown for not having.

He is without doubt the Master who commands all the King's slaves. Yet he refused to be treated like a master befitting his status as the King's Most Beloved Emissary. His anger is the King's anger and his love is the vast Mercy Oceans of the King Himself. He never raises his voice in anger; his words are wisdoms so precise. Shorts but everlasting lessons in humility and simplicity. A great orator who very rarely speaks at length.   

"O MercifuI Master of  The Most Merciful King! What if when in my zest I may become overzealous and give you a bad name instead?" 

Always shameless and trying very hard not to be overly inquisitive or disrespectful in his presence I ask for his reassurance. Although many times over the years sitting around him by the fountain in the garden, the clarity of his lessons are all too self-explainatory to warrant any question. 

Here is the person in flesh and blood who is wellknown as the greatest man in the whole of the universe and yet I found him so humble, sincere and truthful. His aura and charisma is so overpowering and yet he makes everyone feels so at ease, like a feeling inside me - that I am very dear to him! Of course that is also the feeling of everyone who meets him. The way he greets you is like he has known you for years.

It is really impossible for anyone not to fall in love with him. 

He is so generous to the point that he often share his meagre meals with others.

"What is enough for one person will be enough for two." He often reminds us. Selflessness.

"The last morsel in your plate is where the blessings, so do not be wasteful less the food will curse you instead." His belief in Zero Wastage.

"Gently, Gently! Be mindful with your gallops for the one shaken under the hoofs is also our companion!" Kindness to all things for all things are living things. Unlike us but equals.

He who loves will be loved and he who sows hate wil harvest hatred. Those are some of the lessons that are permanently imprinted in my heart. To treat all creations of with love! 

I often feel so small and guilty that I could not do more for the love of him.

"What took you so long!" He smiles for me, almost laughing so sweet never before seen in his face. I kissed his right hand, my tears still wet on the back of his palm as I hug him. He hugs me back so tight and warm until I can feel his heart beats and he feels mine. Our hearts are now like a pair of beating drums excited because their longing fulfill.

Of course he knows why I took so long to meet him. There is no need for an answer.

"It's been 15 years." He says gazing deep and loving as usually he is.

I did not reply. Just seeing him again swept me off my feet completely. I was swarmed with my own guilts and preoccupations but I never once forgotten him or our first meeting. 

He knows then that I need to chart my own destiny. To see things in perspective, I used to tell myself. He knows those pursuits are parts and parcels of the journey. He knows that without the search there is no discovery thus no conquest. Without that conquest one will not be with him by the fountain in the garden.

There is only one garden. Not two. Not three. One. With many fountains of various sizes and all kinds of landscapes. His fountain is incomparable in terms of design and structure. Solid in its beauty and perfection. Crafted with unsurpassing passions and all encompasssing eternal love, the water oozes with sweetness of honey that no words can ever describe. Whoever has come to taste it will know but will not be able to explain in exact.

One who knows, knows. You don't know what you don't know. 

Try as I might very hard to narrate down what took place in our meetings which are rare and concessional, I will not be able to relate to you in simpler words.

"If all is reveals, you certainly will weep more and laugh little. Angel instead of you will walk this garden!" He laughed softly.

I was mesmerised by what was spoken. That is his way of joking with close ones. Always meaningful with his each and every utterance. That is one reason why I love him so much. More than my own parents or anyone else for that matter. 

As long as I have his love and he loves me. Nothing Else Matters.

"But, O Beloved Master whom all creations mention the name in their praises!  Fifteen years of travel with endless ups and downs?" 

Truthfully not a question for him to answer me as much as just pouring my heart content to him. Sometimes I say a lot of silly things in his presence but I am sincere with words and that's probably why he likes me in the first place that I am only human and to err is my portion.

"Your action is judge to your intention!"  He says to me once long before. 

He knows that the road to the garden is not an easy one for anyone to traverse. Thorns and wrongs litter the path. Sweets, flowers and fruits by the roadside slow the journey. Beautiful palaces with dancing girls and plentiful harems to boot. Of course The King has erected signboards and has guides position along the way but I do declare I take my sweet times. 

In dark cold nights alone in wide stormy seas, my fragile little boat rocks and dances like bubbles on ocean crests. The map he provides is a great help and the Almighty King has put in place buoys and lighthouses to avoid the sandbanks and icebergs. Nonetheless it is a perilous journey that forces one to pluck one's courage and learn skills to navigate safely and reach The Sanctuary where the King's treasures are. Looking at the stars from the deck, how they decorate themselves around the full moon I learn the meaning of perfection. Not once but many times, because the mast breaks and the ocean waves are higher than mountains, the seagulls mercilessly lullaby the boat upside down one turn helplessness into surrender. It is just another lesson to discover faith in one's fate. 


Alone. No one insight to ask help from. Then one hears the sound of helicopter engine hovering above. Visions blur for lack of water and drained of energy.  Struggling in iced cold ocean and breathing the last air. Life or Death.


"Thank you! Thank you so much" I said as I collapsed into the arms of the wingman.  


Since not much is left from the boat other than broken pieces of useless planks, by the mercy of The King new boat is made and the journey begins from where they found my shipwreck. Destiny means total submission to the King's Command. I know very little then that to listen and obey him means forgiveness from the King's Mercifulness.  

"You will not reach the tree top when you do not climb. The downwards are for you to learn humility and strength." He keeps patting me on my back. His sweet smile never leaves him. As always informal lesson with meanings lurking behind each and his every word.

"I can provide you the keys but the treasure chests one can only opens with sincerity and selflessnes". 

I learn the hard way and I still have plenty to learn from this man who himself claims he is just a mortal like others are . I swear in the name of His Majesty that not only he is the master to all the slaves in the garden but truly he is  The  Immortal Master to all the sages that I happen to know in my journey. But he who is The Keeper of The Fountain is not himself a sage. 

Friday, 4 March 2011

.
Welcome to The Garden


Thus as the words are spoken to all, now I shall march forward under his banner of peace with his chivalry of love and valour of sincerity; bringing with me seeds from the harvests and honey as gifts  to you from the garden and embrace you with a story of my journey