وَٱلۡجِبَالَ أَرۡسَىٰهَا (79:32)

And the mountains He set firmly.

 

Ya Allah,
keep our friendship clean,
our trust unbroken,
our respect alive.

When we fall,
let us lift each other.
When hope fades,
remind us of Your rope.

وَاعْتَصِمُوا بِحَبْلِ اللَّهِ جَمِيعًا
"And hold firmly to the rope of Allah, all together." (3:103)

Ameen.

 In the Quiet of Flame

There is a struggle within,
a fire restless in its cage.

Left alone, it would consume,
yet it is subdued -
confronted and contained
by a force beyond myself.

The truth is quieter.
Not every flame is meant to dazzle.

Some burn within, unseen —
like a leaf holding fire in silence,
green above, restless beneath.

Desire stirs, and I falter.
Remorse follows like shadow.

I am not unbroken,
yet I am not forsaken.

For the root still drinks from His mercy,
and the breath is still His gift.

It is not my strength that saves me,
nor my will that holds me firm.

It is He who steadies the trembling,
He who subdues the storm,
He who gathers me
when I cannot gather myself.

So I carry this flame with humility,
not as triumph,
but as trust.

Grateful for the One
who grants life after falling,
who whispers in the burning heart:

“Do not grieve. Indeed, Allah is with us.” (At-Tawbah 9:40)

 ; COURAGE # HONESTY *  

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“Courage is not loud—it’s honest in the dark moment. Awakening isn’t arrival, but the breath after fear.”

Surah Al-Furqan 25:63

وَعِبَادُ الرَّحْمَٰنِ الَّذِينَ يَمْشُونَ عَلَى الْأَرْضِ هَوْنًا وَإِذَا خَاطَبَهُمُ الْجَاهِلُونَ قَالُوا سَلَامًا

Translation (Saheeh International):

"And the servants of the Most Merciful are those who walk upon the earth humbly, and when the ignorant address them, they respond with words of peace."

Thunbergia Grandiflora

 

Remain humble ...

The White Lily's Whisper

 

This morning’s quiet moment with a white lily grew into a prayer of patience and hope…

What whisper can you hear today?

“Indeed, with hardship comes ease.”

شجرة (Tree) – A Living Parable

The tree does not stand still— it nourishes, it listens, it aches, it celebrates, it is joyous!

A shadow stretches like a secret play across the ground, performing both shelter and omen.

In drought, its veins whisper of thirst; in storm, it trembles like a body remembering pain.

And yet, it feeds — not only through fruit or sap, but in the quiet release of breath - refreshing.

It gives without witness, knowing most will never bow to thank it or shout to proclaim its worth.

But the tree is not a post - it is part of the cosmos.
Its branches stretch upward as if in prayer, its roots grip the earth with patience, drinking from rain decreed by Allah.
Each leaf is a page in His unseen book, inscribed with mercy too subtle for the eye, invisible to the restless.

The tree remembers - the fire that seared, the axe that cut, yet still it submits, for every decree belongs to its Lord. Will it blink when it is rough but steadfast as an innate nature?
Even in its fall, the withering leaf returns to the soil to give life again.
Nothing is wasted in His wisdom.

Its leaves rehearse the drama of time— young, translucent, nearly light itself; old, brittle, returning to soil as food for the unseen.
Each fall is a promise: even ruin nourishes.

It breathes what we breathe, silently feeding us with air, a gift uncounted, a charity ongoing - privilege that praises without tongue.

And so, the tree becomes both mystery and mirror: anchoring earth, recording seasons in rings no eye may read, while swaying still in an unspoken hymn.

The Qur’an calls it shajarat ṭayyibah - a goodly tree, firm in its roots, stretching toward the sky, bearing fruit in every season.
A parable of faith, and a reminder that all beauty returns to the One who created it.