Hymn of the Prophet

Hymn of the Prophet

In the Name of AllaaHu, the Presence of Love, the Reality of Love


"The Beloved finds Hu's Self in Man,


And Man finds himself in Hu.


Silence finds the Beloved and Man One in Love."


(Inspired by the mystical saying (hadith) of the Sweet Beloved Holy Prophet Muhammad (salla AllaaHu alaihi wa salaam):

"He who knows himself, knows AllaaHu,"

and the hadith qudsi,

"Man is My Secret and I am his Secret.")



Hymn of the Prophet


Ageless are our souls, O Children of Light!
Behold, the air is throbbing with that which quickens the heart on her way to ecstasy,
The slumbering waters are making love with Love's faceless Child called Solitude,
The space is flooded with songs unheard, inviting the virgin nymphs of Love's sacred valley.

Verily, this Earth is Love's footstool,
Even as Love is the Earth's throne.
And the Heavens are Love's heights,
Even as Love is the Heavens' humility.

All of life bears the marks of Love's Parentage and Reality,
And it is only with the Infinite that you can embrace the Infinite.

Therefore, let us speak not of the world's restless days and unfulfilled noontides,
Let us not be offended by death's sighing,
Which is more devastating than the clamor of the world.

Rather, let us echo that which is preserved in Love's infancy and youth,
Let us speak of the restlessness of Love's Sea of longing,
And let us play the mad currents in Love's windless space,
Let us speak of those nebulous days in which we each are but Love's own throbbing heart,
Spiritual tongue, penetrating sight and breath.
Let us sing Love's longing, O hallowed heart of mine.

Have not the valleys, ravines and hills of your dreams fired your souls
With the wine's secret essence?
They too fill my heart with Love's fullness upon Beauty's summits.

Rejoice, for we share the same reality with the murmuring rivulets,
The sun-mitten desert sands, the rustling tender branches
And the reed growing beside silent-bound waters,
All of whom long for Love's fullness,
Even as a babe longs for his mother's breast with unspeakable thirst.

Beauty is with he who is not ashamed to kiss the sun and drink the shower,
She is with he who runs naked even to the tempests of the seasons,
She is with he who is not offended by the soundless night and the shadowless day,
She is with he who lives with the deep Reality of the moments in the winged knowledge of Love.

Even as the seasons sow even the hard soil with Love's seed,
So must you water the frozen heart with Love's tears,
Even as the rain softens the rocky plains and causes rivers to run about their bosoms,
So must you break ignorance with Love's tenderness and enfold the distressed in Love's wings,
This way you each become Love's Image and Love's Pathmaker.

I long to embrace you in a million ways, O Children of Love!
Come to my spring which summons things seen and unseen
And flows with the known and the unknown.

Come to Love, unmould your worries, unrest your hidden Sea and rise with your passions,
Come to my Beloved Who alone nurses countless hearts and their exhaustion,
Come to the Heart that contains all hearts in the Great Silence between horizon and horizon.

Come let us melt our anxiety with Love's songs,
Come let us utter nothing but Love's whisperings and thunderings,
Come let us reap nothing but hope.

Do not follow the ways into the dreary desert where the clear stream of reason flows not,
For thousands are the ways that shroud your innocence in lust's agony and evil's shadows.

Measure not your years of anguish and longing,
Rather, flow with my breath, which is pathless in the air,
And pierce the sky of your existence
And be one with the winged melody of the Universe.

Ishq,

{Dani}