A Church Called Hope

Peace, one and all…

‘A Church Called Hope‘ is perhaps an unusual title for an offering of Muslim poetry, but life is like that sometimes!  In the strange world of Abdur Rahman it makes perfect sense (honest).  At any rate, these are my latest poetic reflections and I’ve posted them over at The Corner Reloaded.  So, what are you waiting for?  Get over there and check them out!

A Church Called Hope

Beloved, this small vision of me,
this brittle shell of ego,
is a punishing master
and it offers me little opportunity
for rest.

For how long, Beloved,
have I been driven
hither and yon
by this unruly self?

How many times
has it forced me
into all the narrow corners
of this world?

And though I name myself a servant of Love,
I wear the iron collar of another
around my neck.

Is this not the most wretched of adulteries,
and the most forlorn of sorrows?

But, Beloved,
You come once more to find me,
in spite of my self,
for I can read a sign
when it is before my eyes.

Thus, I saw it
at the coming of the morning,
in the field
of a church called hope.

Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman

Dervish At The Door

Peace, one and all…

I’ve not posted anything from Mevlana Rumi of late and so let me correct that oversight now.  This particular poem struck me as both profound and deeply challenging, and thus I share it with you.  May Allah bless all who pass by.

Dervish At The Door

A dervish knocked at a house
to ask for a piece of dry bread,
or moist, it didn’t matter.

‘This is not a bakery’, said the owner.

‘Might you have a bit of gristle then?’

‘Does this look like a butchershop?’

‘A little flour?’

‘Do you hear a grinding stone?’

‘Some water?’

‘This is not a well’.

Whatever the dervish asked for,
the man made some tired joke
and refused to give him anything.

Finally the dervish ran in the house,
lifted his robe, and squatted
as though to take a shit.

‘Hey, hey!’

‘Quiet, you sad man. A deserted place
is a fine spot to relieve oneself,
and since there’s no living thing here,
or means of living, it needs fertilizing’.

The dervish began his own list
of questions and answers.

‘What kind of bird are you? Not a falcon,
trained for the royal hand. Not a peacock,
painted with everyone’s eyes. Not a parrot,
that talks for sugar cubes. Not a nightingale,
that sings like someone in love.

Not a hoopoe bringing messages to Solomon,
or a stork that builds on a cliffside.

What exactly do you do?
You are no known specices.

You haggle and make jokes
to keep what you own for yourself.

You have forgotten the One
who doesn’t care about ownership,
who doesn’t try to turn a profit
from every human exchange’.

Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman

Islamic History Resources 2

Peace, one and all…

 

I’ve just posted the remaining Islamic history videos over at the Islamic History Corner.  I’ve put them together in two posts, here:

• When the Moors Ruled in Europe 5-7
• When the Moors Ruled in Europe 8-11

May Allah make them beneficial (and enjoyable too).  Another turban tip to our worthy sister Safiyah. 

Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman

Islamic History Resources

Peace, one and all…

Our worthy sister Safiyah (I’m tipping my turban as I type) recently sent me a link to a series of videos on the history of Islam in Europe.  I’m currently in the process of posting them on my Islamic history blog, The Islamic History Corner.  I’ve not yet watched them myself, but it’s always good to have new resources.

Check them out.  So far, I’ve uploaded 4 (out of a series of 11).  You can find them here:

• When the Moors Ruled in Europe 1
• When the Moors Ruled in Europe 2
• When the Moors Ruled in Europe 3
• When the Moors Ruled in Europe 4

Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman