Affectionately

A poem dedicated to my late brother,

Dear Antony Watts-Abdul-Matin A. Haqq

With our white sheets we'll meet once again
We'll greet, we'll speak, and sip tea once again
Just not for a minute, or a year or two
But while we're separated
Please visit me for a few
Tell me about your departure
Although without you it'll be harder
I won't bother shed a tear
I know those that go straight to Allah, don't answer to Munkar and Nakir
So all I ask is while you're there
Existing in the distance between you, I, and here
Make Du'a that only of Him I fear
And that thought of Him should be my only steer
I can remember late nights we'd laugh my dear
Just like it was last night my dear
Indeared, through your absence, to Az-Zaahir
Existing without existence
In pure hearts He peers
Sometimes I look at the door
And you're still not here
Realizing
That visualizing
Is only a fantasy
And that fantasizing is only enchanting me
It's not a reality
For me
Remembering you is something I can't do
Which doesn't mean I've forgotten the remembrance of you
Rather that pangs of division shoot through
But He says that true lovers will unite
So here I am
Waiting
Praying
On my knees each night
Bowing
Raising my hands
While my pleas take flight
Divine words I'll recite
To get me through this dim life
So awakened I'll be, and again companions we'll be
We'll talk, we'll laugh, sit under His tree,
Knee to knee
And it will no longer be poetry
But the meeting of you, I, and my decree
With our white sheets we'll meet once again
We'll greet, we'll speak, and sip tea once again
But I won't shed a tear
My word I like to keep
Because I know you're better off with Him
Than here with me
So, on you I wish peace.
Affectionately,
Your sister Bee

I guess....

Since I have Myspace as one of the places you can find me, I should actually make myself available there huh? It would be a courtesy to whoever is trying to find me there. Just a thought.

My bad!

CLose, but no Cigar!

I hate feeling as if I don't belong. Aaaaaand, it's just that simple. I could actually place a period here and that be the end of my post, because it sort of sums up the entire meaning of this post. And it's funny to me how one, or a few words can tell an entire story.

See, I find myself smashed somewhere between, a Sufi, a Hippie, an Artist, an Activist, Passive Aggressive, and just trying to stay afloat. But, that doesn't complete me by far. There is much more, and I guarantee you if I were to have written this earlier, or later tonight even, I'd only have a few of these words and

a few different ones. Which just means, I can't be boxed in, and am a combination of many things. But, let's get to the point, I don't want to lose you before I scratch the surface.

I've always been the different one, even when I was a little girl. My group of friends were always closer to one other, than I was to any of them individually. I haven't quite found anyone to match my random, convicted, and somewhat twisted view of life, Religion, and Culture. I'm not sure if it's a lesson from God to teach me the importance of needing only Him, or just the cold reality of life, and the fact that no two people are exactly alike. But I've never been internally at home with anyone BUT Him. I feel I can get along with anyone, so don't get me wrong. I also feel as if I am a person who, does not like to, but, can adapt to my surroundings at any time if need be. But there is still that me, inside of me, that is never fulfilled by anything but me, and Him. Or Him, and I.

I wish this were some epiphany I had, and that I could tell a story about how I dreamt that God were holding a place for me in paradise, or that He sent me a sign saying I was special; but it's not. It's just that little girl from 52nd Street who always wanted to be different, didn't talk much until about 11 years old, that grew up impoverished, yet loving life, sharing a fraction of who she is to the world. And I don't know why. I'm not sure why society has made himself worthy enough to know this about me now, but, for some reason, he has.

Could it be:

*the acceptance of self

*a learning experience

*a level of discovery

* a journey I'm about to embark on

Or simply, me just being my random self again? I'm not sure what it is that warrants this delicate piece of the pie that I am sharing, but that may be part of it too. All I do know is that, I'm finally understanding that I'm

not like anyone I know, or have ever met. I'm just me. I don't ask God why has He made me in a way that I feel I can't relate to anyone, nor do I question why He has made others in a way that I feel is so different from me. But what I do ask, is for Him to grant me understanding and contentment with His creation, and what He has ordained.

And with that my heart rests. Even in me just knowing that I have requested that favor from Him, I can rest, knowing that one day it WILL hit me like a lightning strikes.

Fact still remains. . . .

BeeTrue

It's time...

I feel like I have failed society in a way. Not because I have done anything to offend it's fabric, but because I have held my tongue, and force back for too long. It is now time for me to stand up and do with my voice and hand, that many will never have the chance to do at all. Speak up, and against falsehood, and misrepresentation of Islam. Through my art, and this blog, I will attempt being an American Muslim citizen. Upright, peaceful, loving, mannerly, and religious. It is only by His will that this is possible, but I am no longer going to sit back while anyone represents who I am. I will do it for myself.

Brace yourself world, I'm ready to make a change!

BeeTrue

A facet of remembrance

Bismillah Ir Rahman Ir Raheem and Ramadan Muabarik to all!

It is with sadness in my heart, and Du'a on my tongue, that I relate what I witnessed in 2004 when I traveled to Pakistan for a goodwill tour. It was a trip that I will remember, and cherish for the rest of my life, and am very fortunate to have gone. But this note has little to do with the purpose and length of the trip, it has much to do with what I saw. One day when we were driving around to shop for some cultural things to bring back to the states, we ran into a slew of children who looked very ill and un-kempt. It wasn't that they were homeless, nor that they had no family, it was something very peculiar about them and their story. I was told by a native woman of the country, "the people are so poor here that some parents have resorted to shooting/blowing up/and or amputating limbs from their children's bodies, so they can appear as desperate as possible and become beggers; in hopes that those who are more fortunate will feel sorry for them."

The children would stand in lines on the street, or outside of stores all over the place waiting for rich natives, or wealthy foreignors to come by, so they could rush them with their pleas. I remember it looked so real, that it was surreal. One of my companions, when first confronted by the sight of this, laughed, thinking it was a hoax of some sort, that they were in costume. That is when our trip lead told us the true story, and just how real it was. I can close my eyes right now, and picture the blood dripping to the ground from their arms, and legs, as they knocked on our car doors and windows. In their eyes I saw no emotion, but I could feel the energy of pleaing hearts while in their presence. The picture in my mind becomes no less vivid now, than those days, weeks, and months during my trip.

I think that is when I realized just how blessed I was, and no matter how unfortunate I was in my past, there was no comparison. It is at this time I began to understand the spirit of Sadaqa, and take it seriously.

1345. It is related that Haritha ibn Wahb was heard to say, "I heard the Prophet, may Allah bless him and grant him peace, say, 'Give sadaqa. For a time will come when a man will go about with his sadaqa and not find anyone to accept it. People will say, 'If you had brought it yesterday, I would have accepted it. Today I have no need of it.'" (Bukhari)

I can't confess that since then, I rush to give Sadaqa as soon as I find out that someone is in need. Nor can I admit that after having read this very Hadith 6 years ago, I have done enough to compensate for my awareness either. But what I can say, is that my heart never forgets, and I am only human. I want to do more, and I want to never be the person who waits until it is too late. If giving is important at all, it is most important, and exceedingly beneficial, during this blessed month. The reward is tenfold, and Sadaqa is "a facet of remembrance" because it is He who tells us:

" Those who (in charity) spend of their goods by night and by day, in secret and in public, have their reward with their Lord: on them shall be no fear, nor shall they grieve." (2:274)

Personal Du'a: Ya Allah! Let this be as much a reminder to me, as it is to anyone else. Ya Allah! guide us all to, or on, the straight path. Ya Allah! Allow this Ummah to become more like those righteous men and women before us, and grant us patience with Your Mercy. Ya Allah! I beg that You grant us forgiveness our sins, and entry to Your blessed garden, underneath which rivers flow. Ameen!

BeeTrue