What Can Be Birthed By A ‘Father Of Dirt’?

The sands of my true origins, were trying friend to call me home..
Yet home, where the heart belongs, was not to me clearly known!
Because the heart ends up in dirt, in visions and my deductions;
was home then merely Pak-o-Hind, or was my TRUE origin shown?

This I ask of you my dear, O you reader of these lines:
‘What do you think brings you here?’  Messages are ALL divine..
Every moment is a portent (aayah), every event is a sign:
words you read are meant for U, don’t U say that these are mine!

Can past events ever determine, what the future may behold?
The stuff of stars can become me, babies sometimes become old..
What then says, that I may not, in honest, conscious, soul desire:
take my self and ask to BE, to become then Noor (*Luz) untold?

This I’ll ask you if you let me, do you ‘O my dear’ now see?
Is this how, you would allow, your own LIFE to come to be?
If what U thought was lost to U, could be found & be in reach,
would U then not choose to make, with this knowledge, history?

[* Luz is Light, the inner light that is shown in paintings of saints, sacred objects and places, in many religions of the world.]
Context and Explanation of Esoteric Concepts.

I see this poem as a lesson to its reader. It makes obvious references to a few mystical concepts of Sufism, and seminal facts regarding the father of Sufism in Islam, Ali ibn Abu Talib (on him be Peace). One of his titles, given to him by our beloved Prophet Muhammad (Peace & blessings upon him and his), is Abu Turab, “father of dirt”.  I have always asked, and wondered, what might that mean? Well, it is that thought I am responding to here. Those who wish to know, those who seek, will find a lot to ponder in these words. I certainly do.

The poem itself was composed many years ago, (it was only three stanza’s, or quatrains,) and came alive only recently, when I saw a picture that reminded me of a memory from my childhood. This memory was supported by a vision, so the poem returned as a reminder, bringing with it the final stanza, or rubai. Those who have experienced such things may agree that we know a lot more than we sometimes give ourselves credit for.

The very real and literal “memories of our infancy”, which many people discount yet we all possess, are far more valuable, and generally worthy of consideration, than most will ever permit! Our internal discourse, analysis, and via deduction, ready wisdom, is possibly more accessible to most people than developing intuition, or internal clairvoyance.

I have seen many seekers get stuck in trying to decipher the mysterious aspects of the self, when so much is readily available if we mine the apparent-self, that which is visible to us! This is based on our memories, wherein lies the school of the soul. We need not meddle with the unseen when entire universes of realization are clearly accessible, even if they seem mystical. I see this realized in the poem “Secrets Of The Self“, scribed hurriedly by my dad in 1999. The translation makes it a multilingual composition.

All this is based on the quote of Imam Ali Karam Allah Wajhuhoo:
Man Arafa Nafsuhoo, faQd Arafa Rabbuhoo! (which I translate as)


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