The soul may weep for passing days,Yet knows this world is but a phase;True peace is found when one lets go,And leaves behind what cannot stay. No home awaits when life is done,Except the one our deeds have spun;If built with good, it shines above,If built with wrong, its light is none. Where are the…

There was a desk that learned my name, in tidy lines, in steady frame, where days were filed in black and white and effort dressed itself as right. I showed up early, stayed a while, refined the work, rehearsed the smile, believed that time, if given more, might open some unspoken door. The ceilings didn’t…

When the world is a storm and it pulls you apart, And noise floods the edges of thought and of heart, When everything rushes, demanding you move..  There’s a place within you that does not approve. It does not resist, it does not demand, It waits like still water, untouched, unmanned. While chaos is shouting,…

في دروبِ القلبِ أسعى خاشعًا أطرقُ الأبوابَ بحثًا عن الرِضا ليس مالًا، ليس مجدًا زائلًا بل سكونُ الروحِ إن ضاقَ الفضا يا إلهي، علّمني كيفَ القَبولْ كيف أرضى حينَ تَشتدُّ السُبُلْ كيف أُبصر في البلاءِ نعمةً وأرى اللطفَ الخفيَّ في الثِّقَلْ الرِّضا سرٌّ عميقٌ ساكنٌ في يقينٍ لا يُزعزعهُ الأجلْ هو تسليمُ الفؤادِ لِحُكمِكَ حين…

I am the olive tree.. ancient, awake, A story no storm has managed to break. Before there were borders, before there was name, I stood in the silence, unshaken, the same. My roots run deep where the old voices sleep, Through centuries buried, through secrets I keep. They twist through the earth, through memory and…

I wake into a room that already exists. Light on the wall, pale and slow, like something that insists. I lie still for a moment, aware of breath and skin. No story yet. No victory. No loss. Just the quiet I’m in. At work the world arranges itself in lines. Emails, voices, deadlines, measured designs.…

Your wishes were written long before your sight, softly inscribed in the margins of light. Your dreams were never fragile or far, they lived where your deepest beginnings are. What’s meant for you does not drift or stray, it moves with the patience of night into day. Not lost, not delayed, not denied by fate,…

Pressure is a privilege, feel it press, It shapes your spine, it carves your yes. It means you’re standing where it’s real, Where dreams demand you show your steel. Mistakes are not the mark of shame, They’re sparks that teach you how to aim. Don’t call them loss, don’t bow in fear They’re feedback whispering,…

G- 2023 I am tired in a way that rest won’t mend, A quiet weight with no clear end. Not tired of work, nor tired of try, But tired of holding what passes by. I stand prepared, my voice held low, Three steps ahead of what they know. I carry more than I am named,…

I seek refuge بِرَبِّ ٱلۡفَلَقِ , the Splitter of dawn, The ٱلنُّور tearing night where fear had drawn. With ٱلۡمُبۡدِئ, bringing all from start, And ٱلۡخَٰلِق knowing every hidden part . From harm within what ٱلۡبَارِئ shaped, From paths where even good feels scraped. From night when ٱلۡقَابِض lets darkness close, Till ٱلۡبَاسِط spreads what morning…

I carry storms I never show,a quiet ache that moves in slow.Not sharp enough to make me bend,just there.. an ache without an end. My thoughts collide, they rush, they race,fear and hope share the same space.Nothing settles, nothing stays,yet nothing breaks beneath the haze. Excitement hums beneath my skin,not joy, not peace.. just pulling…

He is with you where you stand, in every grain of drifting sand, in every breath your lungs command, in every trembling, open hand. When night falls heavy on your sight and doubts grow louder in the night, He walks with you beyond your fright, a hidden, steady, faithful light. When hearts grow tired, when…

With hardship comes ease, with hardship comes ease, A promise from God that softens the squeeze. Not after the fall, not once it has passed, But inside the moment that feels too vast. With hardship comes ease, when nights stretch long, When prayers feel weak and the heart feels wrong. When doors stay closed and…

I made a deal with the universe once, a very polite, well-worded plea: “Just give me one small shiny thing, and I’ll stop asking for three.” A job, a title, a stamped-in-ink pass, a proof that says you belong Surely then all the stuck-in-between would feel slightly less wrong. I said, “If this arrives, I’ll…