Be heard like a
S
o
n
g.

Cut through like a
R
h
y
t
h
m.

Get it off the chest from the
B
o
t
t
o
m.

In between the floating
day and night
that keeps this sublunary
planet live.
It's still an unseen night
from where the sunrise.

If only one can tell
from where the things dip out
only to scurry away.
I wanted to ask
but every one I see
is another punter
knows not when
that's time is up!

What matters most
not what shows on top.
But what's at the bottom
the underlying intention.

I wonder what's your thought
What do you see at the bottom
at the crack of dawn?

Can I guess you said
it's the blossoming red rose!

Sometimes dancing on the floor  
                I tend to bring it down
Because I feel like I have read
the best poem ever  
                  This is the reason why.

Yet a moment or two passes
after a while, I crave a new one
                                     I wonder why?
My heart murmurs hisses to my ear
          Try reading the beloved's eye!

You and I are one rhyme
together we dance
the ebb and flow of the life.
Every different colour
we got it covered.
The clouds are free to fly
down our sky
changing in as many
colours as they like!

First and foremost, You flourished fullest!
You balanced the masses all surrounding,
Yet are You the finest ever ahead, upon You,
The cast of masses all cascade to the end,
Before glorious, You are seen in full,
And they all re-rise up to You, greater
As yet You remain to be seen!

When You cast time's captivating views,
Upon Your own, on to Your vast heaven;
Beyond even the embodied, paradise dwelling,
The proud soul rise, wrought by You!
Yet Your divine revelations causes them all,
Like Your majestic rhythm, relatively
Innovates them all on the way you come and go!

Roses are for the ladies
The spring is for the gents.

What made Rumi
is not the poetry.
That's media not
the end of the discovery.

The reality, ***!
Can a bard stich
a word on it
where none nothing
can stand still?
Treading on the way
poet Rumi sings.

One step up cloud we touch
Rainbow is close let’s go for the sky
Let’s do it now don’t delay
It’s time for a butterfly dance!

Rose is ours with a handful of earth
Tickled pink flower gives a smile.
Banish the morning blues away
down the feet the floor is ours.
It’s all clear written in the stars
Now is the time for a butterfly dance!

Be it in the day or in the night
Bask in the moonlight or in the sun
it’s not snowed under the seven seas
nor is tucked away up on the sky.
Still on the ground, the floor is ours
and it's time for a butterfly dance.

With the green we grow the river we follow
Left, right, east and west every way
it flows, open to all directions on its way
The world is open worldwide!
But what if in the midst is missing an eye?
The show is on with the hidden card
Let’s get it done it’s time for a butterfly dance!

Give nife to bed people
they will ****.
Give it to good people
they will save people.

Reading
       the yesterday,
                       writing
                             the tomorrow.

Be quick, before a rain
                                       d
                                       r
                                       o
                                       p
spills off the rainbow bowl.

And the smiling rose
shows the world
the sun in its dew.

The silent moon
over the old pond
perhaps lost for words.
If only it could
describe the charm
mirroring a mirror
of ancient calm!

When I see the same star
every night, I ask
where did you go
at the end of the last night?

Skipping the gap!
It always gives me
the same reply.
See you tomorrow night!

Ambling in a full-moon night
let alone the Moon
I only asked for a star.
Because I wanted
to be in tune
with the half-lit sky.
But none did stop by me
not even the little firefly.

Oh, from nowhere but
from the colour black
off it's sea of different shades
the night pops out.
While the Moon indeed
was painting in the dark.

Though every star
kept an wide-open eye.
But no one wanted to tell where
did the night scurry away
before the very blink
of the waxing Moon's eyes!

Bud of the winter dew on lips grow,
Snowy boughs surrounding began to unfold,
'Spring it shall flower' you must travel along, to see
When she will flower and in her very first glance,
Shall innovate the ether lapis-lazuli sky,
And the glamorous sun in her luminous dews,
She will cast her gaze towards the infinity,
And the veiled spring-night of tender full-moon,
With millions of star thriving, will be reflected upon;
She will whisper to the sleeping morning breeze,
And that will wake dancing the primrose's aroma,
Smoothly waving over the green meadows!

Who will let it be freely, purely, organic!
In whose innovate warm touch shall dissolve,
Poor winter's covering upon the earth,
Hence, once again green earth shall cast,
A glance to its vernal zenana,
Beneath the sunny sky wherein the air,
Shall sniff the aroma of the radiant rose,
And the birds shall tour around,
Singing the song of freedom!

Endure, yet she is beyond the gaze of the sky!
Now a season poor as she has flown away,
Gone to address the assembly of the Angels!
Therefore, accepting an invitation from the fairies,
To have a bath in their lotus-pool, prior to flight.
Hence, delighted fairies all flew to the palace,
To give the news to Queen Mab!

And soon a while after they return,
Around the pool, they greeted and sang,
The spring while she steps into the pool,
They sing and dance, hail the spring:

'The troublesome thorn mingled into itself,
The long ugly arm has collapsed pieces itself,
And the beauty has broken through!
Behold! The shining sun under her shadow!
The beauty by her grace fathomless,
Gorgeous she looks, rosy winsome!
Make all dance her awakening fragrance,
Tenderness she breaths, and caresses the bliss,
With a heart of endless love,
Vivifies the file, pleasant, dynamic!'

Meanwhile, the maid of honour came with the news,
They wanted to hear 'the Houris too shall join them.'
Yet they are flowering themselves alike as they gaze,
Upon the adoring scene of divine, winsome, paragon, fashions,
Impressionist hairs of the Queen of Paradise!
Where lay upon the Throne, and youthful streams,
Flowing, surrounded by, and canopied by the sky
Of glory garnished by the millions of the divine artisans!
There the sun care greatest and offers harvest lights,
And now, she comes to the streams, she shall swim.
Therein the never fading water-lily will please her sight,
She will listen to the divine birds of joyfulness,
Singing the songs of the blissful souls,
In the name of the all praiseworthy,
The perpetual Creator, Allah.
As she will innovate the songs,
And the innovative image of the eternal creations,
Will be bestowed upon the spring and all the houris,
Shall greet the spring as they will pour
Flowery rain over the fairies' pool!

Listen, the angels sing 'Lo, the spring, '
Again and again, as she dives into the fairie's pool,
And dips out up to the earth! See for yourself:
As youthful as ever with the sun shining on her forehead
And the day on her flowers, with her the earth is radiant
Her soil is perfumed, she belongs to paradise!

When you walked on me
I was groovy,
I was the rose of the spring:
everyone’s sweetie!

Your little earth down the upside-
down sky was the centrepiece!
Not anymore, I don’t want to be.
O Fathima, don’t go without me,
don’t go to heaven without me!

Without you I melt away,
burning my spine:
you know the reason why.
I passed my song down to you.
Pour it down to river, to the sea,
do as you please,
but don’t leave me.
O Fathima, don’t go without me!

I touched my dream
when you touched me,
I bent with paradise
like a flower bends in the breeze.
You said sway with ease.

(Choir, voices of women:
Every night did the moon flower,
million stars spurred far afar.
We were closer than two hairs)

I let you paint yours on shades of me.
I became you, you became me.
No one is sure where your
grave is no one can see.
O Fathima, don’t go without me!

When the moment is
c
  o
    o
       l
or not so cool.
Still, it's a good time
for a
p
  o
    e
      m.

In no time it can
turn it into a
b
    r        
        e      
            a    
              k
             t
           h
        r
      o
    u
  g
h
moment!

If all it takes
just a kiss of death
to be gone
for good forever.
I wonder how
a life becomes
'so worthy'
to live it
in the first place?

The truth is
all present times
span out to the future
to realise the potential
of a newly born one!

How could dead death
can take it all in one ******?
Or it just dumbs down
on the surface digging
deep into the diverse layers
of the grand design of a life?

Thinking that ancient Egyptian
made the great pyramid
is numerically imperfect.

The earth is gold dust is fine
pair up with the blue nymph
go on, fly to the lapis lazuli sky!

Be with the one cosmos
do it, embrace the world!
Without a human, it's void all
for the human all are meaningful.

I was on the way to pick her up,
was just about to cross a slippery *****
on the front yard of my in-laws’ home.
Forget how long it took me to cross,
Huh, I had to solve a riddle.
A Moon pops up halfway through,
right in my way, it just won’t move.

I said I don’t need any horoscope,
already married, I am not a groom!
She goes, I too don’t fancy fussing about.
The riddle I got is only an easy-peasy one.
Just tell me your W duo—Where and When
did you take your first breath?
I laugh, isn't it the mum who can tell best,
who saw it first when I was born
but I can't go back and ask her,
she won’t show up
unless I return home, picking her up.

I said to the moon, o dear,
never did I say you got a scar,
that a spot on your face is cute, fair,
is only a cool shadow of one’s
deep-rooted fine lock of hair!

I then ran to the expert scientist.
He said it’s all vibrating but knows not
where the heck, if ever the spin might stop.
Again I ran to knock on the Sufi’s door.
He seemed to know why I went there,
And said in a deep voice, “as far as I know,
you don’t have a sister-in-law!”

Again the moon asks, in a heavy tone
“Tell me the truth,” before it's too long,
I said you’re in my way,
“I am not asking for an acre of moon.
Spare me a digit gap if you could.”

Unlike how the lands on earth, she tells,
keep changing the hands,
owning the ultimate plot is still one’s dream.
But no space is left unmeasured in space.
You miss by a hairbreadth, no matter how tiny,
and you might as well miss it by the eternity.

So zero space can I spare says the moon
This is it, the dead end, no more room to move.
Still, even a closed circle can’t be close,
the smallest atom is not the smallest to be closed.
The constant spin inside it constantly finds
ever more space to move on, because the root
pi is cracked open, spills out a new decimal,
though none can pinpoint, in this finest loophole
the sky can sway and earth finds a mouth to jingle!

When the intelligent design was
sizzling and shining in the soul,
and the rest were still in deep mute
yet one was playing the lute!
Paradise saw me, to her I drew
and tweet “So beautiful are you.”

Pronto, the heaven turned around,
as if the first light after the eternal night
hovers on her lips like she then spoke.
Hissed to me, “without prejudice
am I by design the enduring showpiece.
So ask me what's indeed the beauty is.”

Without blowing a horn or waxing lyrical I say:
Didn’t it blur before you, that a magic snap?
The first reflection of the feminine form
on your golden spiral smoothed out water,
because she breathed on it, on the spot.
Up till now did you view this intact mirror?

Only one drop, keeping tight into the core with
a shadow of the reflection within doled out.
Instantly croons in and danced through every
river across your one hundred layers.
You are still painting on, go on take your time!

Even the atom from the bottom of the black hole
reaches out to the water, the feminine did it first.
Peering through the water’s skin she floats
with the utmost high-surfaced designs into mirror.
Only the primo wonder of the all one peerless God
looks on it, there is no veil except the one is her!
The Uncreated Word, fluid beyond, finest mellifluent
coined the creation, only to loop back to itself far greater.
Therein the root the first (pure light) feminine rose,
for good ever after blossoming flower!

Painting
            every
                     nook
                        every
                     hue
                of a
         water
drop.
Once done all in all
there was still a sea
     in the whole!

A house can be made without
   a president
     a doctor
       an engineer and without
         a tycoon.
But without
            a woman can't make
              a sweet home!

Every star loves to take a dip
where the sun sets
deep it cascades none can see,

But truth will show up
from the bottom.
Up to the sunrise hill
tomorrow again the sun
will rise to it’s pitch.

The Eid is bustling with joy
come let’s give it a try
f  
  l
    y
     away!

To the deathless groovy paradise
floating high on the elixir flow:
The triumphant joyous wave
streamed up from the secret bottom line!  
Up above the lapis lazuli sky.

A pair of butterfly basks
in the sunlight
quietly indulges in style.
It goes on in slow motion
illuminating the night a firefly
perches on a slice of the Moon
flanked by the moonlight.

But you and me
we will rhyme and chant
in our lovely mother tongue.
In the same original lingua
like ‘Adam speaks up and all
angels listen in paradise’.
Come let’s give it a try
f
  l
    y
     away!

On the wings of the moonlight
we will
s
  a
    i
      l
       away!

Ambling by the Moon
we'll **** through the starry nooks.
Eyes open and gently perched
atop a star for a moment or two.
We will see miles of galaxies
over the moonlit lakes of the blue
playing cool ravishing lutes!

The spring night is in bloom
and the cute sleeping beauty
wakes up playing the flute!
Musical half lights filling the sky.
Come let’s give it a try
f
  l
    y
     away!

We’ll drink sharaban tahura
the holy wine of paradise
and once for all we will
k
i
  s
    s the death goodbye!

Our story will fill the divine soil
the heaven's flora and fauna
each and everyone will shine on our page
no houri will ever say finito singing our tale!

As Adam did it first stunned the angels
telling the nature of all things in paradise.
We will do that once more without a smirk
this time we will see the loving Creator!

Making money                                              money can't buy!
                  is one skill.                           is a different one
                                         Making life

I
Didn't I walk past ‘cause the
crowds were mushrooming
around the Hajre Aswad.*
As like the rose, it comes
with thorns on the stem.
The most significant stone sits
pulling the biggest crowds.
It makes sense, it rhymes.

A twilight isn't a harsh cut
at the end of a summer day
when it paves the way
for the waxing moon.
No cut is a cut on the way
to the desired noon!

I too thought while the flock
before me was bumping on
the way to the desired one
Let's not me be a disturbing one.
So for then did I walk past
the Hajre Aswad!

II
Are you, are you 360-degrees
on the way to the beloved?
Maybe it’s not you who sway
losing the most at first in this way!

Should you then change your mind
and really do a u-turn
even jump in the water.
Already a lost one you are.
Too little a size you are:
for Jonah's whale just a bite!

Punters swept the way ahead
I too didn’t do a U-turn.
Squeezed, I get caught in the crowd.
In the flow rolling fast and by chance
I kissed the Hajre Aswad.



II
Didn't I reach out to the sky
We know there is no colour
The rainbow is far from the touch.
I just chanced to click a link
that lets you keep on browsing.

There was no colour,
just black: the Hajre Aswad.

Is the black only black though?
Pierce through the black,
the moon gardens
amid the starry honeycombs.
The whole world has seen
blooms only on the
nocturnal black screen!

But did you see at this end
what a sheer beauty prevails
off this black veil?
Hajre Aswad, o my God!
Could it sample? Is there a rose?

IV
Should I ask the rose
that shines the colour of the day?
I can feel it whispers:
Tap into my fragrance
if you can, one might dip in
but I am yet to touch a skin!

The rose whispers:
Below or above, in or out
into a space sooty indeed.
Maths or programming
call it whatever you think.
A colossal solar disk
doesn’t swallow it.

No altitude or latitude here.
You won't see a line
let alone an intersection
on the heart of the matters
the fresco Hajre Aswad!

V
Where do I begin?
How do I give a demo of this, o my God!
How it didn’t need a eye to see.

I didn’t pop into a rosy garden.
It was night and dark indeed.
This a colourless magic
pierces through my lips.
And tints in the heart
what a firework!

Now be it a most spectacular duo
the rose and lapis-lazuli-blue nymph
under the same cloud.
Frankly, it doesn’t matter.
To me now, no colour is a colour!
Since it snuck the light
This on cloud nine
Hajre Aswad the black stone thriller!

VI
I am unable to draw down
is a dwarf under the moon.
Since kind you looked
behind and with your toe
no star saw it, it was worn
like the starless night's swarthy sock.
You opened the door a little
upon the earth at it’s core!

Allah willing, one fine moment,
this eclipse will conk out.
There will be no dark mole
at the night’s core anymore.
The moon and the sun be one persona
basking into your bursting chroma!

The sun will go off the screen
That day it won’t have a rule.
It will be cool swimming in your pool!
Then the voice mine, can’t be swallowed
by the Jonah’s whale no more, no more!

The truth that was
but couldn't be afar
behind the closed door
locked away forever.

Opens through in full circle,
the infinite touches on the finite:
Finity gains the ground to infinity.

Paradise kissed the earth,
pyramidon drops bouncing down
around the pyramid in reverse.
It’s on a golden spiral run
round the mundane and divine.

Only to find the intersection is locked,
not above, nor below, but in the numbers
heading to the exponential circular zero.

That too towards the origin sways,
because it’s in the human, lies the pi.

Walk                   Let                            Deep 
       the                     even                           down
         walk                    the                              let even
      on earth                stars feel                    the death  
          with zest!             your presence!           some rests!

The world is small even heaven isn't big
but an uncreated Word is,
an expression of love and promise!

The tale of the beginning
the tale of the end without the ending.
Soon God said it 'Qun' be
bang it couldn't be bigger indeed.

Everything small and big the complete
creations panache came to be so big!
The body is small the soul came in the front
and every soul big banged in one go.
All heard the same Word it was only one
that sets the tone for the first to the last
so sweet it took everyone’s heart!

The death wouldn’t touch the soul
that already died but couldn’t die.
Revived there and then instantly,
hearing the 'Qun' the uncreated melody!
Crooned up even through the dead-end
surged up to the other side of the black hole.
Like a waxing Moon passed over, crossing
the asleep body in the shadow, yet in the making!

Unable to resist it, the first big bang
didn’t happen amidst the material entity
not in the star, milky way or in the galaxy.
Adam was yet to be in the body
the physical ear was yet to hear it!
Unlike the tuned in abyss soul there
that harks and the clouds rise and rain
only to revert back to the sea
showering the shallow terraqueous body.

He said ‘Qun’ again and the first physical big bang
on the matter takes place in Fathima’s joint
interlacing her live soul and pre-design body.
It cuts through the irrational pi in between
the soul and body so that gel in melody!
With pure love without a condition
that shall keep up perpetuating the body!

Nature that was yet to be, gets a mirror in its entirety
and bangs big hearing an echo of ‘Qun’ be, says the Almighty
it comes to be and shall perish only to be an eternal body!

Every corner
every nook is full.
Bouquets of stars
flower over the Moon!

Lo, unleashing every
bit of the inky night
the sleeping beauty
to wake soon!

Go to the nth degree
when everything is full
look for somewhere new!
It's a full circle, full-blown
but a ceaseless moving world
to one more new angle!

You’re nothing but a rose
I stepped on the thorn
and came out
to be your nightingale.
It’s all yours all in all
just give me a call!

Nothing can hurt me more
then when your shadow
isn’t in the shadow of mine.
Without you my rainbow
has no colour.
But if you come back you will  
find the earth in bloom
You will see the sun is in a dew
Come back, like you do
smelling of rose.
Just give me a call.

I heard you say
the sun is out basking
down on the blue sea.
I wonder what more
I am missing
with my limited vision!
But when you ring
the bell on my door
I can see the sunrise
in the little peephole.
Come now, just give me a call.

Alexander of Macedonia this time
won’t U-turn from the might Gangaridai.
At the bubbling edge in the Indian subcontinent,
one would dare, taking his last plunge,
believing it here the proverbial Well of Life!

Yet Al Khwarizmi will discover the algebra,
drawing from ‘nothing,’ purely untouchable:
The Zero from the Indian pole.
Not a digit, not a number on its own, yet it’s all.
Every number jumps up in the zero loophole!
Then the whole number bows down into decimals,
escalating the hunts of the 1.618 golden ratios.

Plough through at your own pace
for the uncharted water, for ab-e-hayath.
Sip in a drop of elixir in this secured zone.
Sylhet is in the core, is written in stone.

What do these mean? I too wonder
down the line, I was intrigued by the Arab
and Indian tectonic plates’ slow dance.
Both rolled out, hugging each other
Then the Makkan soil lying at the heart of earth
gets exposed, with Sylhet’s soil it pairs up!
360 Sufi dynamos, mathematically a perfect circle,
find the match giving a perfect heads up
laid on the nine yard show the whole box of wax,
simply inking the vivo jump on the storylines.

What’s under the tectonic-rug at the bottom of the earth?
Shush softly, whisper—the heavens might hear it out!
Hold on to the least bit, it could be all one wants.
The earth, the ocean, all started with a drop of water!
Let alone any well, which way did this original matter,
the first, primeval drop of water stream down
Has this alleyway been exposed here, or in Paradise?
Then how can we say we don't have a secret for Paradise?

Truth is big
it's imminent.
Little is in the know.

I wonder though
what if we knew it a lot
will we not die no more?

Pondering me
ended up on the water.
There was land no more.
Or the colossal ocean
at the end of the earth
is its backdrop who knows?

If this little soil earth
can stand in the midst
of the giant ocean
why can't a life's
bottomless backdrop
billow up when the
momentary death swoop?
(Thus propelling it into its
deathless eternal portion.)

The sun is with the paintbrush
ambling down the river blue.
See, your eyes are the mirror
in between the earth and sky duo.

Bask in the open air theatre
eye on spread out with colour.
Indulge in, with a slice of summer
you got the brightest star, the light
on your canvas, you got the clue.
Now draw your way through
art yours in between the two!

Who’s eyeing up is lurking deep.
Every star looks down,
wants to drop in it and swim
deep down the burrowed stream,
that deathless ab-e-hayath
every king wants to drink.

On the edge, the living earth
dared to mimic Queen Fathima's worth,
the Queen of Heaven's grace and poise,
her footsteps, a blessed path of choice.
This way bedewed with divine light,
a numinous destination of sight,
graced by thousands of prophets of God,
a sacred path that all should trod.

In Allah's name, she descended,
on the Night of Ascension, her path transcended.
from the Night of Measures, she came,
her frame, heaven's dark matter, a mystery untamed.
A divine dot in terra incognita,
a fondly-folded bud where time doth bloom.
If one can see up to where it rose,
Paradise sways towards this uncharted way
the only guide, oft is a glimpse of Queen Fathima's eye!

The only asymmetrical golden ratio,
steps forth amidst the symmetrical prophet flock.
The earth makes way for her in awe,
as she moves in sequence with the golden lock.
Cloaked in mystery, she reveals
her unique, divine relation to the divine.
Makes measured moves at the forefront,
shining the light ever drawing closure to God.

She is so pretty and classy, a paragon of art,
a sunrise amidst the eternal night.
Her beauty is a burning fire in her shadow,
she is 'Zahra,' pure light, a luminary dynamo.
The only woman in heaven and earth with no shadow!

The great flock of women mirrors the earth,
following each atom on that angled girth,
aligned perfectly under the waxing full moon's worth.
As they approach the behemoth's might,
atoms beneath their skin explode in their finest sway,
and beneath Fathima's feet, vibrations take flight.

The ocean billows up, floating with the clouds,
Like choreographed dewdrops hanging low on the rose,
Ready to shower down on that hot spot like honey-drops.

Even the Moon on the horizon follows suit,
Ah, the lunar punter rows down, loves to sip in a drop.
the sleeping beauty wakes amidst the moonlit night,
silver dances in her eyes on every star in sight,
as the Moon sails down from its celestial height.
The seven seas sing out in the dark,
bubbling with exuberant fireflies' spark,
who gleefully rock the moonlit boat,
towards the cup of that pretty little drop.

Poetry in motion, the sea on the ground
a beauty reflected in the Moon on high
the storylines jump and dance around.
Painting the colors of the winds in the sky
over the shady grove, the rhythm goes on
rains down from the sky on that sweet spot
singing the sweetest of all title songs.

Never before was a woman a prophet of God,
but for the primitive woman, the leading lady,
the sharpest cut above the rest, the leader of the pack.
Sayeedatun Nessa, Queen Fathima,
Heaven holds no secrets, always an open mirror!

Secret is Fathima touched the bottom of the earth first
it's in her elements a pure unique one otherworldly love
the womankind scores that only entering paradise!
"There is no night, only déjà vu moonlight
the pious homemakers, these veiled tuberoses,
were hidden gems to the sublunary fireflies
who will be open moons in heaven's secret skies."
The Huris gaze upon mesmerizing beauty,
but their eyes turn to the real McCoy:
the women in paradise!

The universe debuts a primitive water dew,
Big Bang, soon Fathima drops in it her two hairs duo
enkindles the inner dark energy in the dark matter mole.
Absolutely pure, nature wakes up get the building rock
nothing like it never seen before, treasures in Earth's core.

The Queen's first impression hooks on
the motionless earth in the dew makes the first move
polished golden spiral is in bloom expanding ever more
the last thing the sun can't do can't take its eyes off
after the Big Bang big fireworks still (Ratqan) a black mole
thicker than the black moon, gravitates the cosmos! 

Walking in the dark ahead of the sun and the moonlight
one step up on that shady way the Queen cemented on,
perfectly circle pi-locks, the earth takes a Ma pause.
Until God willing Fathima's locks shall finally bottom in  
the long haul of time squeezing out paradise upside for good,
the heavenly Queen shines the light in the secret end of God!

The planetary ebb and flow are on the way heaven
the planet earth is the only steppingstone.
No matter how many times they try on
there will still be an unturned stone.
Until the very one, the original woman,
the Queen Fathima steps on.

Dots connect in her presence
the nadir and the zenith perfectly intersect
once for all that shall mingle in her perfect circle
without a labyrinth gap in the whole
making ‘As above, so below’ pure Scientia scenario.

Where the Queen stands on
heaven will open its grand door!
No more reverse engineering the original
God willing Fathima will step on
on the last turned stone.
From the very one greatest woman
paradise starts from there on
from beneath the mother’s foot!

She is so pretty and classy, a paragon of art,
a sunrise amidst the eternal night.
Her beauty is a burning fire in her shadow,
she is 'Zahra,' pure light, a luminary dynamo.
The only woman in heaven and earth with no shadow!

The great women flock mirror the earth
treading across every atom on that angle
perfectly aligned down the Moon.
Until those beneath the skin atoms
bang, explode, on approaching the behemoth,
the vibration beneath the otherworldly Fathima’s feet!

The ocean billows up floats with the clouds
like choreographed dew droops hanging low on the rose
just to shower down on that hot spot like honey drops.

Even the Moon on the horizon follows suit
ah, the lunar punter rows down loves to sip in a drop.
The sleeping beauty wakes up amidst the moonlight
silver dances eye on every star in the night
the Moon is sailing down.
The seven seas sing out in the dark
bubbling with exuberant fireflies
that would gleefully rock the moonlight boat
over to the cup of that pretty little drop.  

Poetry in motion is a sea on the ground
the same is known as the Moon in the sky!
The storylines jump ever more
on that way over the shady grove.
Painting the colour of the winds
the sky rains down on that spot
singing the sweetest title song.  

Never was a woman prophet of God
for the primitive woman the leading lady
the acute cut above the rest, the leader of the pack.
'Sayeedatun Nessa' Queen Fathima
heaven is no secret always an open mirror!
Secret is Fathima touched the bottom of the earth first
it's in her elements a pure unique one otherworldly love
the womankind scores that only entering paradise!
There is no night only Deja vu moonlight
the pious homemakers these veiled tuberoses
were the hidden gems to the sublunary fireflies
shall be the open moons in the heaven's secret skies!
Huris look on mesmerising beautiful
eyes on the real McCoy the woman in paradise!

The universe debuts a primitive water dew,
Big Bang, soon Fathima drops in it her two hairs duo
enkindles the inner dark energy in the dark matter mole.
Absolutely pure, nature wakes up get the building rock
nothing like it never seen before, treasures in Earth's core.
The Queen's first impression hooks on
the motionless earth in the dew makes the first move
polished golden spiral is in bloom expanding ever more
the last thing the sun can't do can't take its eyes off
after the Big Bang big fireworks still (Ratqan) a black mole
thicker than the black moon, gravitates the cosmos! 

Walking in the dark ahead of the sun and the moonlight
one step up on that shady way the Queen cemented on,
perfectly circle pi-locks, the earth takes a Ma pause.
Until God willing Fathima's locks shall finally bottom in  
the long haul of time squeezing out paradise upside for good,
the heavenly Queen shines the light in the secret end of God!

The planetary ebb and flow are on the way heaven
the planet earth is the only steppingstone.
No matter how many times they try on
there will still be an unturned stone.
Until the very one, the original woman,
the Queen Fathima steps on.

Dots connect in her presence
the nadir and the zenith perfectly intersect
once for all that shall mingle in her perfect circle
without a labyrinth gap in the whole
making ‘As above, so below’ pure Scientia scenario.

Where the Queen stands on
heaven will open its grand door!
No more reverse engineering the original
God willing Fathima will step on
on the last turned stone.
From the very one greatest woman
paradise starts from there on
from beneath the mother’s foot!

Dancing the billow in the sea
the cool one will show up
in no time with love.
Deep down from the deep
with the flute on the lips.

Listen to the flute!
The chorus clouds bang out
floating by the river blue,
singing down the sky as they move.

Popping out of the secret valley
the sun branches in
ambling with the wonder light
as if the punter sun knew it,
knows the flutist's arty
rise from down the sea!

Every planet is a flying bee
twirling around the inner music
nothing ever stops in the solar disc.

The waning and waxing Moon
in silhouette and in the half-light
swings over the sea full of life.

It all starts from the ground;
it was from our sea waterfront
Him the creative sweetheart in the midst
floated the leading light the bumblebee.
All the stars bubble in the galaxy
they know this ancient story!

Since then the brightest bulb
the sun in the solar ring  
leads the bunch’s mindful
butterfly dance on the way home.
Following the enduring haunting melody
of the pre-design command ‘Qun’ be!

The truth is
it can't be created.
It can only be found.

Sometimes
      the moon
          doesn't
               look to
                  be a far
                      cry from
                           a smile!
Sometimes
   the untouched
       Moon isn't the
            the only one
                        dwarfs
                        everyone.
                         There­ are
                            many more
                              untouchable
                  ­                     ones are
                                         closer by.

Mirror, mirror
the time is on the go
is on the fly it won't stop.

It will whisk over
my dead body for sure.

But can it reach
out to my soul?

God may have promised
no one always a blue sky.
Explore more He opens
the door other ways!
For there is always
a new sunrise.

When the sun
is a sleeping beauty at night
shining on the Moon!
The night is wake
is a stunner far cuter.
It knows no cold foot
is on the move.

The full wax of the starry
sky keeps awake.
But none could chart a line
exposing a beautiful
night in the veil, no one
says a single word.

The first one perhaps that
dared to open the mouth
only to be speechless
to be lost for word!

Not a night or two ago but
since the dawning of the time!

She and I are so close
but no one can see.
There is no room left
for any witness to squeeze in.

The wind tried it's flowing
couldn't stand still  
neither the water did.
The seven seas danced
beneath her polished feet!

Zero space is in between us two.
By no measure its big
but enough to touch the dream!

Poetry in motion
is a sea on the ground.
In the sky the Moon
is its headline!

The sea is in the mood
is whispering isn’t far.
And the love is in the air
the question is where
can we meet
under the same cloud?

The epitome on the show
is more than a dream turned true
a timeless beauty stitched on the stone.
The first sight hooks the eyeballs
no star is a far cry from here
it looks so close.
A narrative feels so familiar is never old
seen tons of times yet is a new Taj Mahal.

Since the medieval eyes were dazzled
by this monument of love
the crave to eye on it once in a lifetime
is in every lover’s heart!

People of new ages flock here
with the admiring birds
on this air of everlasting romance never
gone with the wind are mesmerised with love!