My Beloved
There was a time in my youth
When Islam was only a custom.
They said,"say La Ilaha Illallah,...
And pray, you will go to heaven"
Ah, how simple, no struggle in this,
Just a word and simple act.
Thereafter i absorbed in this world again,
With my 'assured' place in paradise intact.
But this was not to be my fate
For Allah chose to guide my heart.
I learnt of a man who struggled so hard
When his mision was from the start.
The story of one who had morals,
spoke gently,kindness he knew.
Never fearing to say what is right,
His conviction in Islam was true.
The touch of his hand was as soft as silk
To comfort a crying child.
To mend his shoes or to do the chores,
Never complained, he always smlied.
A living he made with his bare hands
The same that held his mighty sword.
Valour shone from the egde of his blade.
His smell was always of Musk,
And cleanliness he kept at his best.
Stark contrast with the heroes of today,
Who stink of beer and sweat.
He held the hands of his companions.
Unashamed to play with many children.
So modest, so humble, a perfect example,
That strangers could not recognise him.
His eyes slept for the nights were precious,
His prayers he treasured much greater.
To pray Tahajjud in the depths of the night,
Seeking forgiveness, and nearness to his Creator.
He broke his tooth for me at Uhud,
And bled for me at Ta'if.
He cried for me, tears of concern,
Just so i could have this belief.
His enemies admired his teachings,
Uniting every religion, every clan.
Till ISLAM came to every corner of the world,
O, but indeed he was only a man.
To own a house or build his wealth,
Was not his main priority.
To establish Islam was more essential
To bring us under a Higher Authority
Don't you want him to plea fro your case,
When before Allah-The-Judge, you stand?
Don't you wish to be around his fountain,
A burning desire to drink fron his hand?
So I love him more than all creation,
My leader, my humble prophet.
Muhammad (s.a.w) was a mercy to all mankind,
And to me he is...
MY BELOVED!
