In the darkness of the night,
I rest my head on the cushion.
A single thought pops on my mind,
And spreads like a vine.
Tears rolling down the chin,
In the battle of past and future thinking.
So caught up in the worries and solution,
I completely lose the value of this moment.
A moment gone is a moment lost,
Yet I am blinded by the illusion.
Losing clarity of my vision,
Am I the one in control of this moment?
Am I in control of this moment?
Why do I arrest myself to this prison
Of my own creation- No, I am the creation
Of The Most High, and I control nothing.
This knowledge makes me aware,
And this awareness makes me humble.
I bow down to my Rabb in submission,
Without Whom I am nothing.
The gift of thought I am given,
How am I using?
In my Rabb’s Glorification,
Or in my own debasement?
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