I thought they were all separate paths,
but maybe they were just the spread out fingers of a hand trying to grasp
the remnants of a memory.
fingers curling into a palm
could mean death,
or a fist balled in anger,
wishing to launch itself through a wall-
the only barrier
between itself and its future.
I have reached the predicted point of life where one realizes how little they know. I have reached what seems to be the end of my wisdom, my knowledge, my ability to judge and choose without regret.
But I have not reached the end of my heart, or my faith, or my wishing. And those compose the trinity of my soul; the very things that Allah always used to bring me back to life, back from the edges of many cliffs, and back to reality from the countless clouds I lost myself in when idealizing…ever idealizing, what I set my hands to.
Days reveal decree. Moments reveal misperceptions. Years reveal yearnings and months reveal motivation. My life is revealing my love, and my Lord. Sabr, in shaa Allah, and harmony will arise with its healing.