The clock, dumb as jocks on the wall is right again.
Twelve on the dot.
The face on my watch says it’s the the witching hour
and I’m taking a broom to the kitchen floor.
There’s a loud itchin’ at the front door in my head
I know it’s not death so I don’t answer.
My hair ends up…
In a photo of me as a child in Africa,
my cousins hold a lamb down
with a hatchet over their head.
There is red blood on the clay sand.
There is a bright gold ring in it’s left ear,
and if it were a little bigger, I’d marry you with it.
I advise you to prolong the length of bowing and prostration. Verily, when one of you prolongs bowing and prostration, Satan cries from behind one and says: Woe! He obeyed and I disobeyed; he did prostration and I refused.
اللهم إن رأيتني ابتعد عنك ، فردني إليك رداً جميلاً.
— Oh Allah, if You see me getting farther away from You, return me to You in a beautiful way.
If Allāh created you for this world, He would have created you without death.
— al-Ḥabīb ʻUmar b. Ḥafīẓ. (via spiritualaspirant)