#shaaban

اللهم في ليلة النصف من شعبان, اغفر لنا ما قدمنا وما أخرنا وما أنت اعلم به منا, واغفر لوالدينا ووالد والدينا

From all of history we draw our lessons... the everlasting come from our beacons/ Lessons die off at their own expense... except when Hussain, Sajjad, and Abbas are in their defense/ 

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Examine Hussain spiritually or historically, your heart melts in his direction/ When he was born into this world of creation, what didn’t happen/ Everything peeked over, even the sun turned around to meet its competition/ All of creation knew Hussain is going to be worth meeting on this exact occasion/ Nothing in these lands would miss the opportunity to meet Muhammad’s own reflection/ But how many things would kiss his neck on this day to show their appreciation/ 

His very birth was a gift, a blessing that brought afloat millions of lessons/ And how many do I adore when my firmness of faith, Hussain alone fashions/ I climb up over the ego inside so my eyes, Hussain’s humility, envisions/ The flowers of potential in me cry for Hussain to water these lushes of gardens/ Each drop is a lesson, and its not a personal gift, but for the billions/ His birth was not just one day or one blessing, but a centerfold for all ascensions/

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In looking for my next virtue and lesson, I look to Abbas as history’s teacher/ Abbas’s birth wasn’t limited to only bring Hussain good wishes, but also to every other/ When he was born, his mother kisses his arms, “he is born a servant” she’d whisper/ As a strong leader he stands, look at his level of servitude-his greatest feature/ Serving is not demeaning, just look at how many of us learn from his gesture/ He serves everything he has completely and this is what makes him a leader/ 

His birth was a spark to the life he led and I don’t know which is more weighty/ The future of my faith, I’ve placed in his hands though they were taken forcefully/ Because I know he’d still find a plan of action for any lover of God excitedly/ He is full of power and has never died, though his body lies brokenly/ Not a warrior, this is the warrior of Hussain’s battle as he fought brilliantly/ Let history and all collapse, it would still be Abbas’s lessons that stand defiantly/

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For the lessons I exhume from words, I thank Imam Zain ul-Abideen/ The wielder of words, as these supplications help keep my heart clean/ His lessons build my hopes and faith for all that is a part of the world unseen/ How precious do I hold him dear who gave me the directions on how to be serene/ Practicing his lessons of patience in prayer have become a part of our routine/ And I wonder if he is proud or in dismay when he is looking at this scene/ 

His birth is applauded by the words and letters he had written/ We should attempt to fall in love with his writings, at least a fraction/ He has lessons in these words that most will try to keep hidden/ Because his words are the seeds to your insight and shouldn’t go without mention/ Let him open your eyes to the sights they should see with no aversion/ Let Sajjad take your soul on its own journey for lessons till your spirit awakens/

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