July 7

Our Journey Together is so Short…

“Our Journey Together is so Short” A beautiful message for all of us….Take a minute please

A young lady sat in a bus. At the next stop a loud and grumpy old lady came and sat by her. She squeezed into the seat and bumped her with her numerous bags.

The person sitting on the other side of the young lady got upset, asked her why she did not speak up and say something.

The young lady responded with a smile:

“It is not necessary to be rude or argue over something so insignificant, the journey together is so short. I get off at the next stop.”

This response deserves to be written in golden letters:

“It is not necessary to argue over something so insignificant, our journey together is so short”

If each one of us realized that our time here is so short; that to darken it with quarrels, futile arguments, not forgiving others, discontentment and a fault finding attitude would be a waste of time and energy.

Did someone break your heart? Be calm, the journey is so short.

Did someone betray, bully, cheat or humiliate you? Be calm, forgive, the journey is so short.

Whatever troubles anyone brings us, let us remember that our journey together is so short.

No one knows the duration of this journey. No one knows when their stop will come. Our journey together is so short.

Let us cherish friends and family. Let us be respectful, kind and forgiving to each other. Let us be filled with gratitude and gladness.

If I have ever hurt you, I ask for your forgiveness. If you have ever hurt me, you already have my forgiveness.

After all, Our Journey Together is so Short!

Category: Interesting Stories, Morals N Ethics, Poems | LEAVE A COMMENT
March 27

When I Die…

When I die
when my coffin
is being taken out
you must never think
I am missing this world

don’t shed any tears
don’t lament or
feel sorry
I’m not falling
into a monster’s abyss

when you see
my corpse is being carried
don’t cry for my leaving
I’m not leaving
I’m arriving at eternal love

when you leave me
in the grave
don’t say goodbye
remember a grave is
only a curtain
for the paradise behind

you’ll only see me
descending into a grave
now watch me rise
how can there be an end
when the sun sets or
the moon goes down

It looks like the end
It seems like a sunset
but in reality it is a dawn
when the grave locks you up
that is when your soul is freed

have you ever seen
a seed fallen to earth
not rise with a new life
why should you doubt the rise
of a seed named human

have you ever seen
a bucket lowered into a well
coming back empty
why lament for a soul
when it can come back
like Joseph from the well

when for the last time
you close your mouth
your words and soul
will belong to the world of
no place no time.

Category: Morals N Ethics, Poems | LEAVE A COMMENT
March 27

The Month of Rajab

Rajab

Seventh month,
We welcome you
A reminder to reaffirm our faith anew
Through fasting and prayer
We declare:
Allah (SWT) we bow down to You alone!
Month of Respect,
What a glorious history you hold!
The Night of Ascension
The Battle of Tabuk
So proud to be in our Nabi’s (SAW) fold!
Al Aqsa – we think of you
Liberated in this month so long ago
Waiting to be liberated anew!
Let’s make the most of this month
Sow the seeds of good action
To be watered in the month of Shabaan
With tears of sorrow
And
Reap a fruitful harvest in Ramadhan
The next month to follow
To achieve sincere satisfaction

Category: Ahlul Bayt, Poems, Rajab | LEAVE A COMMENT
July 14

A poem of a palestinian child…

Don’t cry now Ummi, don’t cry now, rest now Ummi, sleep,
It’s over Ummi, no more pain, no more suffering, no more grief.
I see the fear in your eyes Ummi, thinking what’s going to become of me,
Don’t you worry about me though Ummi because Allah will watch over me.

I was going to build you a proper home where we would live happily,
I was going to take you to Hajj Ummi, when standing on my own two feet.
Those dreams will stay dreams now, never becoming a reality,
My heart is breaking apart now Ummi with the thought of you leaving me.

O’ my beloved Ummi, what will I do without your company?
My world is upside down, I’m in pain! Turmoil! Agony!
Our lives mean nothing to them Ummi! They hate us passionately!
But why does no one stop them Ummi? No one listens to our plea!
Why does no one help us Ummi? Why is everyone asleep?
Don’t they know we live in terror every day from this enemy?

I get lost in my thoughts occasionally, I’ve been thinking a lot lately,
I don’t know what we did to them, why do they want to see us bleed?
The day we wait so long for, but it seems tht time has ceased,
when will this bloodshed stop?
When will we live again in peace?
But our blood is not wasted Ummi – remember for this we die as Shaheed,
They may take our lives Ummi, but our souls are forever free!

So they can beat me, starve me, cut me until my body bleeds,
My soul will never submit to them,
I’m a slave to the Almighty.

 

 

By Rashid Abdi Nur

Category: Poems | LEAVE A COMMENT
May 14

The Finer Thought

Imam Mohammad Al -Baqir has said:

“Haseebu qabla an tuhasibu” – “Do your accounting before the accounting is done for you”

The poem below sums up how our each day should be:

The Finer Thought

How fine it is at night to say:

“I have not wronged a soul to-day.

I have not by a word or deed,

In any breast sowed anger’s seed,

Or caused a fellow being pain;

Nor is there on my crest a stain

That shame has left. In honour’s way,

With head erect, I’ve lived this day.”

When night slips down and day departs

And rest returns to weary hearts,

How fine it is to close the book

Of records for the day, and look

Once more along the traveled mile

And find that all has been worthwhile;

To say: “In honour I have toiled;

My plume is spotless and unsoiled.”

Yet cold and stern a man may be

Retaining his integrity;

And he may pass from day to day

A spirit dead, in living clay,

Observing strictly morals, laws,

Yet serving but a selfish cause;

So it is not enough to say:

“I have not stooped to shame to-day!”

It is a finer, nobler thought

When day is done and night has brought

The contemplative hours and sweet,

And rest to weary hearts and feet,

If man can stand in truth and say:

“I have been useful here to-day.

Back there is one I chanced to see

with hope newborn because of me.

“This day in honour I have toiled;

My shining crest is still unsoiled;

But on the mile I leave behind

Is one who says that I was kind;

And someone hums a cheerful song

Because I chanced to come along.”

Sweet rest at night that man shall own

Who has not lived his day alone.

 

BY: Edgar A. Guest

Category: Morals N Ethics, Poems | LEAVE A COMMENT
March 14

Poem of Death

Death came too soon, I was yet to repent,



My sins now unwashed remain with me till the end.



Time was spent on meaningless acts,



Worship ignored, a blind eye turned to the facts.



Days would go by without a thought,



That time was running out and my breaths were now numbered.



But I carried on, and indulged in life,



Forgetting my purpose, my aim in life.



I was being watched yet acted so selfishly,



I talked with disrespect and walked about aimlessly.



I feared very little and felt proud to be a Muslim,



But my actions were very different from the teachings of our religion.



Then one day He showed me His sign,



He took away my breath; it was now the end of the line.



I lay there helpless and watched in silence,



As all those around me screamed and wept.



I thought for a moment, what a bizarre scene,



But then realised I was no longer alive to intervene.



I wanted freedom, to be let loose to move,



But the wings of the flighty dove had now been removed.



I sunk so low as to feel my chest burdened,



With the weight of a thousand stones bearing on my soul now hardened.



In an instance life had swiftly come and gone,



Not once did I stop to think about what I’d done.



All that neglect, I had caused so much pain,



But any prayers and pleas were now in vain.



As I lay still, my cries would be unheard,



Like the boy who cried wolf to the disbelieving shepherd.



As folk sat weeping my journey had already begun,



Into the unseen, to darkness and beyond.



If only I had listened, had adhered and refrained,



This journey would have been to a place more serene.

Category: Poems | LEAVE A COMMENT
July 24

Drop A Pebble In Water

Drop a pebble in the water: just a splash, and it is gone;

But there’s half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,

Spreading, spreading from the centre, flowing on out to the sea.

And there is no way of telling where the end is going to be.

 

Drop a pebble in the water: in a minute you forget,

But there are little waves a-flowing, and there are ripples circling yet,

And those little waves a-flowing to a great big wave have grown;

You’ve disturbed a mighty river just by dropping in a stone.

 

Drop an unkind word, or carelessness: in a minute it is gone;

But there’s half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on.

They keep spreading, spreading, spreading from the centre as they go,

And there is no way to stop them, once you’ve started them to flow.

 

Drop an unkind word, or carelessness: in a minute you forget;

But there’s little waves a-flowing, and there’s ripples circling yet,

And perhaps in some sad heart a mighty wave of tears you’ve stirred,

And disturbed a life was happy before you dropped that unkind word.

 

Drop a word of cheer and kindness: just a flash and it is gone;

But there’s half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,

Bearing hope and joy and comfort on each splashing, dashing wave

Till you wouldn’t believe the volume of the one kind word you gave.

 

Drop a word of cheer and kindness: in a minute you forget;

But there’s gladness still a-swelling, and there’s joy circling yet,

And you’ve rolled a wave of comfort whose sweet music can be heard

Over miles and miles of water just by dropping one kind word. 

 

 

Affirmation for the Life:

“I will act with the knowledge and understanding that my actions are far reaching.

I will be cautious about what I wish to emanate from me today and everyday..”

 

 

Have a day that ripples with kindness, spreading to those who need it so much.

Category: Morals N Ethics, Poems | LEAVE A COMMENT
February 22

Hope…

hope1By Connie Ciccone ©Nov 2006

To those without hope!!

Hope is inspiration
Turned inside out
Hope is expectation
Of that there is no doubt .

Hope keeps us going
Longing for a better day .
Hope keeps us rowing
Life’s boat at work and play .

Hope helps us rise each morning
Looking for grace along the way;
Hope tucks us in each night
Praying we did His will Today.

Hope is God’s eternal carrot
The goal we all work towards
Salvation removes death’s garrote
As we reap our just rewards.

Hope is you will believe me?
And can see it in my heart eyes
Hope you come and join me
As we bask in God’s blue skies.

Hope your heart will soften
As you let His spirit in
Hope you will pray often
As we all try not to sin .

Hope we can pray together
To help all the world over
United as family, sister and brother
Content under God’s Holy cover.

Category: Poems | LEAVE A COMMENT
February 9

A Crabby Old Woman

A Crabby Old Woman

When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee Scotland, it was believed that she had nothing left of any value.

Later, when the nurses were going through her meagre possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Ireland. The old lady’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem.

And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this "anonymous" poem winging across the Internet:

Crabby Old Woman

What do you see, nurses ?  What do you see?
What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?

A crabby old woman, Not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, With faraway eyes?

Who dribbles her food and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice,  "I do wish you’d try!"

Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
And forever is losing a stocking or shoe?

Who, resisting or not,  lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill?

Is that what you’re thinking?   Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse;    YOU’RE NOT LOOKING AT ME.

I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.

I’m a small child of ten with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters who love one another.

A young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet
Dreaming that soon now a lover she’ll meet.

A bride soon at twenty -  My heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.

At twenty-five now I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.

A woman of thirty  my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other  with ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man’s beside me to see I don’t mourn

At fifty once more,  Babies play ’round my knee,
Again we know children – My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, My husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing young of their own ,
And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known.

I’m now an old woman and nature is cruel;
‘Tis jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles, Grace and vigour depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass A young girl still dwells,
And now and again, My battered heart swells.

I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I’m loving and living life over again.

I think of the years – All too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, people, Open and see,
Not a crabby old woman;   Look closer….see, ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within…..we will all, one day, be there, too!

Category: Interesting Stories, Poems | 2 Comments on A Crabby Old Woman