Alhamdulillah, in the last two weeks I have received gifts in the mail from students. Mash’Allaah, it was beautiful to have that real connection made, the step beyond the internet acquaintance, to see the actual handwriting instead of typed words across a screen. Truly, as the Prophet, may Allaah’s praise[…]
The lid of the old plastic storage tub is difficult to pry off. A decade in storage has warped the plastic, wrapping it tighter around its burden of memories. A tug, a twist and it pulls free. Saudi white musk. I remember a nine year old Mujaahid, his face wreathed[…]
This day dawns pink orange white tinge of blue Memory of thundercloud day before Lightning filled sky Finger jab quick enough to be a dream Then waves of light upon light A boom a flash and it begins again. This morning’s sky tinged with the afterthoughts Of storm What was[…]
Do you remember the time we spent watching snowflakes listening to the soft pitter patter of white bloom on a windowpane dark with night? “ Is it the moon,” you asked, small hand in mine warm curve of sweet honey scented cheek pressed to my chest full to burst with[…]
Listening to the girls reciting Qur’aan, preparing for class later this night reminds me of other nights spent under star speckled skies listening to the recitation of the night prayers during the month of Ramadhaan. Climbing to the roof, letting the sounds of the night- crickets, the far away sound[…]
People often ask us why we moved to Yemen over ten years ago now. The answer was simple. Having found the truth, we wanted to follow it, and in order to follow it, we had to gain knowledge. Yemen, with its many strong scholars and teachers and its low cost[…]
Waiting. Perfecting patience. Setting goals and working towards them one baby step at a time. Looking forward, keeping trust in Allaah. These have made up the last two months, months in which we are in a limbo between homes, out of one, but not yet in another. Walking the bridge,[…]
Once again I find myself in the position of marking time, holding space, suspended between one breath and the next. It’s a lesson I learned long ago, the art of waiting, living on the inhale, knowing the exhale is sure to come. Eau Claire, Wisconsin: My marriage arranged, I’ve said[…]
The knock comes in the middle of the day. Not an ordinary knock; rather, a loud, insistent pounding at the door accompanied with the gruff voice of the man who guards our building, raised and excited. For a minute I am not sure what to do. Mujaahid, my thirteen year[…]
Alhamdulillah, another poem, written in the time when the house is quiet and I look back on the day and take account. What did I do well? What did I fall short in? How have I grown? What have I learned? What can I do better? Sometimes the brevity of[…]
