Hussain’s Love: the battle of breaking one’s self
Hussain empathizes with the nightingale.
tuning nocturnal odes around the fire
and rewinding his-story, because
summer has come early
Dreams at dawn dropping dew
on Hussain’s dried lips,
because Karbala’s clouds barely peel
With no shade of any olive tree
under which to rest
Hussain’s sun-scorched eyes
dream waterskins, tents
and smiles for Zayn and Zaynab
The dust has blanketed his face
He knows it wont be. He knows,
His eyes well
the only well
Kissing foreheads and flooding ears
with prayers for rain in each,
Hussain mounts his ladder to Bliss,
Gliding, the mirage of arrows draws closer
to the angelic chatter
in his chest.
O soul at peace, Return to your Lord, pleased, pleasing!
Then enter amongst my servants. And enter my Paradise!
<<Swelling in thought. Maybe it was my Ashura today.>>
Hussain laughs cause its True, not there is (a) truth
He laughs in agreement with,
He is so burnt in Oneness
He whispers his “I”s and “Me”s,
every unreality simply
brings laughter and smiles.
Is it not that a Free heart laughs? smiles?
Hussain’s heart is a shade of morning,
There is none but God.
Hussain wages battle
not as a warrior
not as a son of
not as a grandson of
not as a defender of
Hussain loves the battle of breaking…
Hussain loves the moment
where pain makes Presence
Hussain laughs in death, and his son lays saying, death tastes like honey
cause, death ‘is’ not
what’s irrelevant is ego
the monster that it is
and its illusion
it’s death itself
God is. GOD
Out of longing [for Hussain],
The skies wept blood…
In this waterfall of wounds