The material body was yet in the making The first and foremost luminary feminine ebb and flow heartily pans out flawless flow to the finest angle. Across the nadir to the zenith Fathima eyes on upon it like it shapes and forms are waxing lyrical: The pure masterpiece without a mirror!
Arts on the go Fathima moves on. Praise be to the Lord she being made to measure inborn mathematical the pi is her! (For the perfect circle the circumference is masculine The pi tends to circle the blank space within is feminine) She can budge equally in the shadow in patternless pi decimals and in the open, in integer into a whole full number!
Hops up her first step she looks for ‘the all’ the complete whole the absolute one Allah. Time and again she steps up but finds no floor Her measured step by default lays on 360-degree circle Scans all things at the first go still finds no bottom!
The first luminary masculine peace be upon him first looks in the open she takes the veiled angle. Through the evermore pi decimal micro-hole She looks on and witnesses the first water drop surfaces up without a base without a roof on top! It follows through truly the copy of the original softly springing around the serene water paints of all the maters to be created from this first drop. Fathima looks at it and veils withdraws her reflection.
It’s still remembered in the sky that follows suit. First, a star was born stepping in Fathima’s shoe. It tried so did the full set of the galaxy only to disperse into a profound constellation never finds a bottom. Because amidst this water circle floats the first soil. Allah called it His house that He first created from it. Every planetary orb pilgrimage around it in the core known as Ka’abah up to the heart of the earth it rose.
In the pre-designed world after the first masculine the first feminine Fathima thus did the first pilgrimage. She walked the walk did so in the patternless pi veil.
Nature is never uneven on the hidden hand of the pi. Every little fraction, the small decimal does it count connects to the dot without showing up a pattern Long live, long live the digital charisma is on the rise!
Retracing time and again the sun rises in the median lane, yet the black box scores it's only a dark chart at the end of the day! The Moon is yet to moon over an unturned sublunary-dip It pulls all, the mighty sea that the earth can't and sync in the feminine water cycle but save only one with Fathima floating out of the box it can’t link up!
Like millions, ever wonder where Fathima’s grave is? The earth strived too to the death bite to print her footprint!
Most of the mass visiting Medina look too see the grave of the holy lady Fathima. It has been a tradition since her death some fourteen hundred years ago. There are two graves where she is buried but which one is her is still unknown. Reportedly she wanted her grave to remain unidentified.