Heart Strings



Heart strings tugging,

Plucking out celestial melodies,

Calling for my return,

Oh, but how?

For in the depths of my being,

I know that I must be here too.


Bent Rib



Swift feet gliding up the stairs,

Door flung open,

Running across glossy floors,

Into the open arms of her bed,

Sobbing, softly into the pillows,

Darkening their exquisite embroideries with her welcome tears,

Just that sentence was enough to temporarily shatter the delicate glass figurine that hangs suspended inside of her, by a single thread of silk.

Every harsh word cutting like a daggers wield, into the innocent flesh of her exuberant spirit and excitement,

Destroying, pillaging, murdering within seconds.

Beeilderingly, they so easily they rolled off the tongue of the speaker,

Like bitter acid, and spit it tumbled out,

Scorching and scalding a single listener.


Heavy feet make their way up,

A knock there comes at the door,

Gentle tip toeing across the floor boards,

Stopping at her bedside,

Gazing at the trembling body,

Wrapping herself in a blanket cocoon,

Dark hair spread out on the backdrop of her pillows, like a halo,

Face turned towards the wall.

A soft word emerges,

Attempting to mend the broken pieces,

Of a heart so used to giving,

And caring, nurturing, loving,

Expecting nothing else but that in return,

And never ceasing even when it doesn’t always come.

But sometimes, something inside just breaks.

You see, I was fashioned from the bent rib of Man,

With a curve only kindness can soften.

The Path of Tears: Muhammad Al Muqit

سبيلُ الدّموعِ سبيلٌ مريحْ ، تنهّد أيا صاحِ كي تستريحْ
وبُثّ الدّعاءَ الخفيَّ الصّريحْ ، يسعْكَ الفضاءُ الرَّحيبُ الفسيحْ

فَبِاللهِ كَمْ تستطبُّ القُروحْ ، ويبرأُ جُرحُ الكَسيرِ الجريحْ
وينشطُ ذاكَ السّقيمُ العَلِيلْ ، وقد كانَ بالسُّقم دهرٌ طريحْ
تقالُ العِثارُ العِظامُ بهِ ، ويغدو الهوا كَكبشٍ ذبيحْ
بِذكر الإلهِ تطيبُ الحياة ، تُسرُّ أساريرَ وجهٍ صبيحْ

تنحّ أيا حزنُ واهجُر فؤاداً ، توكّل بِجدٍّ بعزمٍ فصيحْ
فإنّي عَلِمتُ بأنّكَ نَجْوى ، ولبسُ خبيثٍ مضلٍّ قبيحْ
تبختر ترجّل بصوتٍ وخيلٍ ، فمالكَ في الأرضِ دربٌ صحيحْ
إلى الله عُدنا وبالله لُذنا ، ليُطْوى زمانٌ بئيسٌ شحيح

محمد المقىط ~

The path of tears is the way to comfort, sigh, my friend in order to gain relief,

And engage in private supplication, alone and emotional, the expanses of the universe will encompass your voice,

And by Allah, every wound has a healing, and the broken and wounded hearts recover,

And likewise, the sick and ill become vibrant and full of vigor, while they had been before, forever ridden in their sickness,

The greatest of sins are pardoned, and man’s desires become like a slaughtered offering,

With the constant remembrance of God, life is perfumed and made pleasant, the brightened glance of a radiant face will return once more,

Step aside oh Grief, and depart from my impassioned heart, rely with earnest and determination upon Allah,

For I know now that you converse in private whispers, and that you are an evil and wretched, misguiding covering,

Incite whoever you can with your voice and the assault of your horses, for you have no rightful way upon this earth,

To Allah we will return, and within His shelter we seek refuge, to bring to an end, an era of scarcity and harshness.

~ Muhammad Al Muqit

(Excuse me for the non-fluid nature of my translation, it just doesn’t do the original poem justice🙈)


A beautiful piece on the virtues of friendship, by contributing author Fatimah, from her ‘Gratefulness Collection’! 🙂


Friends are those who make you smile

  And make you happy instead of vile

Right inside the heart will leap

  And joy will wake it from its sleep

Instead of being angry or sad

  You cannot really feel that bad

Enlarged, the mighty hole of sorrow

  Will fill with happiness it will borrow

Never-the-less, friends always will be

  There, to make make your heart feel free

Doors are open

  Hearts are hoping

So friendship will last forever

  For the hearts are bound together.

~ Fatimah