God gave us minds to think with and hearts to thank with. Instead we use our hearts to think about the world as we would like it to have been, and we use our minds to come up with rationalizations for our ingratitude. We are a murmuring, discontented, unhappy, ungrateful people. And because we think we want salvation from our discontents…
#inspirational, #spiritual, #thankfulness
Lovers share a sacred decree -
to seek the Beloved.
They roll head over heels,
rushing toward the Beautiful One
like a torrent of water.
In truth, everyone is a shadow of the Beloved -
Our seeking is His seeking,
Our words are His words.
At times we flow toward the Beloved
like a dancing stream.
At times we are still water
held in His pitcher.
At times we boil in a pot
turning to vapor -
that is the job of the Beloved.
He breathes into my ear
until my soul
takes on His fragrance.
He is the soul of my soul -
How can I escape?
But why would any soul in this world
want to escape from the Beloved?
He will melt your pride
making you thin as a strand of hair,
Yet do not trade, even for both worlds,
One strand of His hair.
We search for Him here and there
while looking right at Him.
Sitting by His side we ask,
"O Beloved, where is the Beloved?"
Enough with such questions! -
Let silence take you to the core of life.
All your talk is worthless
When compared to one whisper
of the Beloved.
Qaraabada, siiba gabdhaha Soomaliyeed ee baabuurta wata, intuusan qaboobaha imanin u tabaabushaysta waxyaabaha yar yaroodka ah oo hadii aydaan kasii gaashaaman dhib idiinka iman kara. Waxaana badanaa daran gabar ilma wadata oo waqti xun ama shaag uga banjaro ama oilyada kaga go’do. Fadlan dhalinyarada aan gaariga arimahiisa wax ka aqoona u gudbiya.
"…let’s face it, two hundred years ago, if I’d been born in Jamaica, I’d have been a slave. On the ‘one drop’ theory of racial purity, plantations in Jamaica had people working on them who looked like me…Does it make people think, actually, what is race, what does ‘black’ look like?” Lowe wants the child she is carrying to share the legacy of her father, although she’s still unsure how this will be communicated. Will it involve having to say something like, Oh, my dad was black? “For years and years and years I never said anything like that. It was in poetry that I got to make a claim.”