Ads by Muslim Ad Network


No announcement yet.

A poem.

  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • A poem.

    “My very first sight,
    Embossed with light,
    Was the Noor shining so true.

    How blessed was I,
    To open my eyes,
    To someone as perfect as you.

    Despite my first cry,
    And your worry, a sigh,
    I was merely celebrating my fate.

    Allah delivered me,
    To your arms so warmly,
    As you had said, "It was worth the wait."

    You brought me home,
    I was never alone,
    I had a mother and father so kind.

    Your friends came to see,
    So many eyes on me,
    But only you, I wanted to find.

    I grew to a child,
    Although I wasn't wild,
    I was, at times, a pain.

    Such patience you had,
    And it makes me sad,
    That I ever caused you sorrow or shame.

    Everyday at school,
    I'd sit on my stool,
    Impatient to show you what I made.

    The pride you would show,
    How my smile would grow,
    Oh, the happiness you gave me never fades.

    When I would fall ill,
    Through a fever's chill,
    The night was a dark, lonely place.

    In your arms I would lay,
    Until the night crept away,
    Taking pain at the sight of your grace.

    Being a teenager is tough,
    Being moody, never enough,
    I had to take it out on you.

    I can't remember why,
    You were subject to my cry,
    But you were patient, nonetheless, true.

    Surely, I don't deserve,
    A Mother, whom I should serve,
    As I can't seem to appreciate your presence.

    I take you for granted,
    You say I'm clever minded,
    Yet I can't seem to cherish your benevolence.

    Surely, I don't deserve,
    And why should I preserve,
    A woman whom I fail to honour.

    As a child of Palestine,
    Would cry for your time,
    Surely they would love you like no other.

    Only now I start to see,
    When I look at you closely,
    The trickles of grey in your hair.

    The odd set of lines,
    And the wrinkles behind,
    I don't want to think of, I don't dare.

    At night, I feel terror,
    A haunting endeavour,
    Into my past and the journey to now.

    And I look to the future,
    And it scares me with a picture,
    An envisage of your departure... how?

    I have come to accept death,
    And my impending last breath,
    But never affiliated it with you.

    To me, you are immortal,
    And I feel painfully mortal,
    When I imagine my life without you.

    At these times, I yearn for you,
    At these times, I cry for you,
    And yet I don't want to wake you from your sleep.

    At these times, I tremble,
    At these times, I mumble,
    But still, you deserve your sleep.

    I want you to rest,
    The hardship of your test,
    As a mother, I can't possibly know.

    The pain to have me,
    A pain of no similarity,
    May your strife, in the hereafter, show.

    We are all ageing,
    Preparing for our staging,
    Of our work in this life that we know.

    But please, my Mother,
    I beg you, my Mother,
    Please, just please... don't go.

    When I think of the past,
    And my memories, so vast,
    I think of the beauty in your youth.

    You have sacrificed your life,
    And dedicated it in strife,
    To raise me as a man of truth.

    I cry as I write,
    For I know you are right,
    Every time you comment on time.

    How it has simply flew by,
    And how you would sigh,
    Every time, your wisdom shines.

    The Prophet had once said,
    His words, in my heart, embed,
    "Paradise is at your mother's feet."

    Oh how I pray, my dear Mother,
    For a wish like no other,
    In Jannah, you and I, will meet.

    "Ummuka, Ummuka,
    Ummuka, Ummuka..."
    Qawlu Rasulika.

    Don't you see, my dear Mother,
    Your importance, like no other,
    Your destiny is Jannah, I pray, InshaAllah.

    And so I beg for your mercy,
    For I am not worthy,
    To have been born to you... me!

    I hope you are proud of me,
    And think of me highly.
    I hope I'm the son you always wanted me to be.

    I don't know of my death,
    When I will take my last breath,
    But I pray to Allah for one wish.

    That He grants you more years,
    To see grandchildren, thus tears,
    Oh Allah, grant me this wish.

    How fortunate am I,
    To see with my eyes,
    A woman with as much love as you.

    I hope when I depart,
    It is just like the start,
    My first and last sight... is you”.
    Last edited by Faith reloaded 2; 03-11-19, 07:13 PM.

  • #2
    Narrated Anas:

    A man asked the Prophet (ﷺ) about the Hour (i.e. Day of Judgment) saying, "When will the Hour be?" The Prophet (ﷺ) said, "What have you prepared for it?" The man said, "Nothing, except that I love Allah and His Apostle." The Prophet (ﷺ) said, "You will be with those whom you love." We had never been so glad as we were on hearing that saying of the Prophet (i.e., "You will be with those whom you love.") Therefore, I love the Prophet, Abu Bakr and `Umar, and I hope that I will be with them because of my love for them though my deeds are not similar to theirs.

    حَدَّثَنَا سُلَيْمَانُ بْنُ حَرْبٍ، حَدَّثَنَا حَمَّادُ بْنُ زَيْدٍ، عَنْ ثَابِتٍ، عَنْ أَنَسٍ ـ رضى الله عنه ـ أَنَّ رَجُلاً، سَأَلَ النَّبِيَّ صلى الله عليه وسلم عَنِ السَّاعَةِ، فَقَالَ مَتَى السَّاعَةُ قَالَ ‏"‏ وَمَاذَا أَعْدَدْتَ لَهَا ‏"‏‏.‏ قَالَ لاَ شَىْءَ إِلاَّ أَنِّي أُحِبُّ اللَّهَ وَرَسُولَهُ صلى الله عليه وسلم‏.‏ فَقَالَ ‏"‏ أَنْتَ مَعَ مَنْ أَحْبَبْتَ ‏"‏‏.‏ قَالَ أَنَسٌ فَمَا فَرِحْنَا بِشَىْءٍ فَرَحَنَا بِقَوْلِ النَّبِيِّ صلى الله عليه وسلم ‏"‏ أَنْتَ مَعَ مَنْ أَحْبَبْتَ ‏"‏‏.‏ قَالَ أَنَسٌ فَأَنَا أُحِبُّ النَّبِيَّ صلى الله عليه وسلم وَأَبَا بَكْرٍ وَعُمَرَ، وَأَرْجُو أَنْ أَكُونَ مَعَهُمْ بِحُبِّي إِيَّاهُمْ، وَإِنْ لَمْ أَعْمَلْ بِمِثْلِ أَعْمَالِهِمْ‏.‏
    Reference : Sahih al-Bukhari 3688
    In-book reference : Book 62, Hadith 38
    USC-MSA web (English) reference : Vol. 5, Book 57, Hadith 37
    Allah SWT said:

    وَالَّذِينَ ءَامَنُوا وَعَمِلُوا الصّٰلِحٰتِ سَنُدْخِلُهُمْ جَنّٰتٍ تَجْرِى مِنْ تَحْتِهَا الْأَنْهٰرُ خٰلِدِينَ فِيهَآ أَبَدًا  ۖ وَعْدَ اللَّهِ حَقًّا  ۚ وَمَنْ أَصْدَقُ مِنَ اللَّهِ قِيلًا
    "But the ones who believe and do righteous deeds - We will admit them to gardens beneath which rivers flow, wherein they will abide forever. [It is] the promise of Allah, [which is] truth, and who is more truthful than Allah in statement."
    (QS. An-Nisaa 4: Verse 122)