Silent morsel
By Abu Khattab
What language does it speak from dawn till dusk?
The flesh in your chest that knows no rest.
Can you hear the words that it humbly sounds?
Or has the natural sway been reduced from it's best?
Chambers flooding with the echo of peace,
Blood flow feeding every inch of you.
Sound traveling through your arteries and veins,
Testifying to One and surely not two.
Beat after beat, contracting, retracting,
A building pressure - a sense of euphoria.
Another beat flourishes throughout the vessels,
So pinnacle it is like a thriving emporia.
What language does it speak from dawn till dusk?
Does your morsel of flesh beat with lasting peace?
Beat after beat, contracting, retracting,
Or has the flooding of the chambers begun to cease?
Synchronized evenly with the rest of your body,
Like a mirror reflecting what you are.
If it is good then all will be well,
And if it is bad it'll be like a scar.
A cut sliced open and partially healed,
Leaving a look of an abnormality.
This is the flesh that has rotted from silence,
The silence of remembrance - a silent casualty.
No sound is heard from within the chest,
The beating fades and then creeps the desire.
Creeping towards you like a woman in black,
The wailing begins because it failed to aspire.
What language does it speak from dawn till dusk?
Have you been unified in the same blood foundry?
Or have you become two separate pieces?
Foreigners living within the same blood boundary.
Attached to the glitter and play of this world,
Forgetting it's Creator and it's final abode.
Death has come, O death has come!
Upon you His decree - it's what He bestowed.
You speak to it yet ignores your words,
You complain and cry throughout the night.
"Where is my heart? O where has it gone?"
The fading in your eye - no longer any light.
You see the noor in your brothers face,
An envy overtakes you because of what you see.
Wishing for the peace that has fallen on him,
Whispering to your Lord "please bestow it on me."
What language does it speak from dawn till dusk?
Your head bowed down but you remain in a gaze.
Actions of emptiness and routine it's become,
Lost and angry and in misery for days.
No mercy you feel towards the others around,
A child may fall but you'll simply walk by.
Where is the beating that sounded the truth?
Where is the beating that didn't make you cry?
"What does it seek? How can I make it beat?"
Questions, questions! Stop asking O fool!
For indeed the answer resides in remembrance,
The remembrance of Allah - the most effective tool.
These words will sway the chambers within,
The blood will flow in a gentle stream.
Tranquility shall come to the soul within,
Then finally, like the brother, your face will beam.
Speak these words and your heart will speak,
No longer ignoring like it used to do.
The mirror reflecting a scar-free believer,
Happiness evident - no longer feeling blue.
Two become one within the same boundary,
Separate entities they are no more.
Throbbing, beating, you can hear the sound,
"SubhanAllah" - you can't help but adore.
What language does it speak from dawn till dusk?
Does it speak the language of the believing heart?
A guiding light through an abyss of complications,
Your heart and remembrance shouldn't be apart.
Let it thrive in it's flow and let it talk to you,
For indeed the remembrance is it's healing treat.
Throb after throb, word after word,
Finally the silent morsel has sounded it's beat.
By Abu Khattab
What language does it speak from dawn till dusk?
The flesh in your chest that knows no rest.
Can you hear the words that it humbly sounds?
Or has the natural sway been reduced from it's best?
Chambers flooding with the echo of peace,
Blood flow feeding every inch of you.
Sound traveling through your arteries and veins,
Testifying to One and surely not two.
Beat after beat, contracting, retracting,
A building pressure - a sense of euphoria.
Another beat flourishes throughout the vessels,
So pinnacle it is like a thriving emporia.
What language does it speak from dawn till dusk?
Does your morsel of flesh beat with lasting peace?
Beat after beat, contracting, retracting,
Or has the flooding of the chambers begun to cease?
Synchronized evenly with the rest of your body,
Like a mirror reflecting what you are.
If it is good then all will be well,
And if it is bad it'll be like a scar.
A cut sliced open and partially healed,
Leaving a look of an abnormality.
This is the flesh that has rotted from silence,
The silence of remembrance - a silent casualty.
No sound is heard from within the chest,
The beating fades and then creeps the desire.
Creeping towards you like a woman in black,
The wailing begins because it failed to aspire.
What language does it speak from dawn till dusk?
Have you been unified in the same blood foundry?
Or have you become two separate pieces?
Foreigners living within the same blood boundary.
Attached to the glitter and play of this world,
Forgetting it's Creator and it's final abode.
Death has come, O death has come!
Upon you His decree - it's what He bestowed.
You speak to it yet ignores your words,
You complain and cry throughout the night.
"Where is my heart? O where has it gone?"
The fading in your eye - no longer any light.
You see the noor in your brothers face,
An envy overtakes you because of what you see.
Wishing for the peace that has fallen on him,
Whispering to your Lord "please bestow it on me."
What language does it speak from dawn till dusk?
Your head bowed down but you remain in a gaze.
Actions of emptiness and routine it's become,
Lost and angry and in misery for days.
No mercy you feel towards the others around,
A child may fall but you'll simply walk by.
Where is the beating that sounded the truth?
Where is the beating that didn't make you cry?
"What does it seek? How can I make it beat?"
Questions, questions! Stop asking O fool!
For indeed the answer resides in remembrance,
The remembrance of Allah - the most effective tool.
These words will sway the chambers within,
The blood will flow in a gentle stream.
Tranquility shall come to the soul within,
Then finally, like the brother, your face will beam.
Speak these words and your heart will speak,
No longer ignoring like it used to do.
The mirror reflecting a scar-free believer,
Happiness evident - no longer feeling blue.
Two become one within the same boundary,
Separate entities they are no more.
Throbbing, beating, you can hear the sound,
"SubhanAllah" - you can't help but adore.
What language does it speak from dawn till dusk?
Does it speak the language of the believing heart?
A guiding light through an abyss of complications,
Your heart and remembrance shouldn't be apart.
Let it thrive in it's flow and let it talk to you,
For indeed the remembrance is it's healing treat.
Throb after throb, word after word,
Finally the silent morsel has sounded it's beat.