Beautiful [poem]

It is only a tiny rosebud,
flower of my Lord’s design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.

The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I.
My Lord opens this flower so sweetly,
When in my hands they fade and die.

If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of my Lord’s design,
Then how can I think I have wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?

So I’ll trust in Him for His leading
Each moment of every day.
I will look to Him for His guidance
Each step of the pilgrim’s way.

The pathway that lies before me,
Only my Compassionate Lord knows.
I’ll trust in Him to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose.
~ Author Unknown

Moon: Where art thou?

tumblr's

Last night, I happened to notice how bright the sky was outside...They say due to the once every 20years full moon phenomena where we could actually view it up close. Well, I didn't went out so I could not view the moon.

So,I made a status that goes: "SubhanAllah,the sky is so bright tonight" and from a few comments, we managed to collectively make out a short poem that goes like this [totally random I must say]:

The sky is so bright tonight
and the air is cold and breezy
But wait,
where is the moon?
Oh,it is shield behind the clouds,
...SubhanAllah,how great the Creator is...

Cool,right?


It goes even better. My sweet and creative with rich vocabs happened to make a beatiful poem like in seconds [gempah seyh!]

Here,

I could hear the sounds and the voiceless zephyr wind chiming the hall of the blue sky... 

 In the shelter beyond my restless sweet homey. 

Makes me wonder,

ponder to lift up myself aside from my busy day against His greatness in this world. 

SubhanAllah, said my dearest friend Wanek, the sky is so bright tonight, 

as I replied..."and the air is cold and breezy"

  No air-conditioner and fan could detour His power over everything. 

When the rain meet the night and when the sky meet the peak of the day,

it would be the jealousy of the world closest stage - the sun. 

Open it wings unto the wide jaunty happiness for those who value this beautiful sign of Lord of the sky.   

Brighter than the moon, indeed the sky is so bright tonight.

source: ainn-in-a-million.blogspot.com




Matters like this, really do boost up the mood to be a teeeny weeeeny bitsy....ermmm...poetic? Well, obviously I don't have that talent per say,LOL



Allahu Akbar for His beautiful creations!



toddles~

salam~~

Inspiration [5]: Dream Mothers

A very "powerful" and inspiring poem by Wani Ardy~




You are a Dream Mother.

If you could not conceive a child,
if you will never know how it feels like to have another heart beating inside you for many months,
you are a Dream Mother.

If your body could not afford to cradle another soul,
if you will never experience the priceless agony of giving birth to a little human,
never be a biological mother, never have a daughter of your flesh and blood, never have a son who resembles your husband,
for whatever reason-
you are a Dream Mother.

Your presence is an essence;
you are the savior of orphans.
Without you, Dream Mothers, many orphans would have no special home.
Imagine a world where every single woman could conceive, could get pregnant, could have a child of her own,
yet deaths and abandonment occur as per usual…
What would become of orphans?

Dream Mothers, people such as you must live.
Biological Mothers and Dream Mothers need to coexist.
You balance the earth and its diverse occupants, Dream Mothers.
No one can deny your capacity to love and care for another.
No one can take away your right to dream of your baby’s name,
or what lullaby you would sing when that tiny foot is kicking, or when that pebble eyes are crying,
or how you would look like in the mirror with your blossoming belly, while your nausea is at its peak.

Dear Dream Mother,
You think you’re inadequate but God has made you a rescuer.
You think you’re less of a woman but God has made you an important reminder.
Biological Mothers ponder upon you and they appreciate what they have even better.

God is Just. God is Fair.
Biological Mothers have their pain and gain; so do you.
Only yours are more of a secret.

To be born a Dream Mother, is not a lost.
To be born a Dream Mother means that you are much stronger than you will ever know.
It means that your pain and gain are there, but they may not show.

Dear Dream Mothers,
You are no less significant.
You are here for a cause.
These children are the earth,
Biological Mothers are the sun,
and you-
you are the moon.

Dear Dream Mothers,
you are the chosen ones.

Wani Ardy
Rozelle, Sydney




source: here   [ you can listen to its background song ]

Poem

A poem titled: Do not stand at my grave and weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

(1) I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

(2) When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
(Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!)


Text by Mary Frye
(Source: cantusquercus.com)

Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Daffodils by Williams Wordsworth

The second poem that I like after 'Road Not Taken' by Robert Frost

Heard it in MYL S1E13 and I'm quite sure I had studied it during my undergraduate years