Future is dim but not hopeless
The rebellion in you is not worthless
Stop listening to songs of cowardice
Act yourself out of the gloom and darkness

Your life is an example of uneven chances
Your birth was every bit of miraculous
Beaten the odds countless times
Believe yourself out of the gloom and darkness

Outwork, outlive, outwill the doubters
Muscles are tired, mind is restless
Snap out and control your emotions
Defy yourself out of the gloom and darkness

Act now you are fearless!
Believe your future is victorious
Defy pessimist thoughts and bitterness
Will yourself out of the gloom and darkness

Being barely enough while overcoming all challenges
Desires pulling me in all directions
The first and the last advice in all of this
I have a job to do

Receiving accolades or battered with hatred
Regardless, I will change it, I will save it
At the 11th hour, never a dull moment
It’s never enough
I have a job to do

Collecting almosts all the way to the top
Running, panting, almost giving up
While grabbing, dragging, shouldering nonstop
And tumbling over the final mark
‘cuz I have a job to do

Any minute now the journey can end
Or everything can be snatched
Yet, I can’t stop here, I can’t rest
My dream, my passion, my love
I have a job to do

One night as my abla* and I were talking

about our hoca*, Mr. Gulen

she told me that he is a step in a staircase

which leads us closer to The Truth, and I agreed with my impressionable mind.

But now I writhe with guilt, what I have lived and sewn,

that metaphor seems awfully inaccurate.

My “hoca” is actually my friend

and he is not a step in a staircase,

he is one who carries wood and nails from his life into mine.

So that we may build a staircase together

our hands both callused with work.

When I fall and twirl deep into my nafs*

like a broken record stuck in static darkness,

he still carries wood but with tears and prayers for me to return.

Not lose me in myself, that pitted black hole.

Then our Beloved calls me again with morning prayer

and I ache on the inside to the time lost at night

jolt back into an awake reality with the sun pouring into me.

I cry with the wood again in my hand, and I cry for my friend

for not forgetting me and gathering wood as I lost time.

I cry for his prayers and how he spoke to The Beloved

to send morning prayer a little earlier than usual,

so that I may remember what it felt to live for others.

we build with our pearl tears and carve wood into marble stairs

our hands extend to the circumference of the earth

enveloping everyone with invitation to walk the same path, be our guests

*hoca: a Turkish word meaning teacher, mentor

*nafs: is an Arabic word occurring in the Qur’an and means self, psyche[1] ego or soul

*abla: Turkish word for bigger sister, used as a term of endearment for women who are older than you.

Emotions one after another, loneliness, anguish; in exile,
Only I, who carries the weight of worry, and this pen.

As I speak it wearingly writes, as I think it silently sobs;
In this long-lasting journey, suffering never stops.

All will come to an end one day, except for longing,
Separation within reunion, reunion within longing…

Searching without finding; finding without reaching,
Day by day, I know not how often, dying and reviving…

Where did I come from; who am I?
Searching for something, invisible to the eye;

A Beloved, that holds the soul to my life; I pursue
the day I will find Him and say, “It’s you!”

My soul will come alive when I hear his call,

I’ll surpass this cage of flesh, once and for all.

How many veils must be lifted
till your glimpse is gifted
How much pride must be sacrificed
till your grandeur is recognized
How much tribulation must be undergone
till a purified self is born
How many desires must be forsaken
till I let my soul awaken
How much heartbreak must be felt
till I allow my ego to melt
How many wishes must be blown away
till my only wish is your say
How many tears must be shed
till my spirit is truly fed
How much knowledge must be unlearned
till your gnosis is to be earned
How many books must be burned
till your message is fully learned
How many reasons must bear negation
till your love is granted affirmation
How many temptations must be fought
till the distance between us is nought
How many wines must be untasted
till your vision turns me intoxicated
How many petals of ‘I’ must wither
till I am able to pluck your flower
How many colors of me must fade
till your rainbow is displayed
How many songs must be unheard
till by your melody, I am stirred
How many peers must abandon me
till I am granted your proximity
How much jealousy must harm me
till I rely on only your sincerity
How many fears must be conquered
till your path is wholly travelled
How much self must be lost
till this journey is crossed
How many wars with myself I must win
till your disclosure will finally begin
How many words must be written
till silence becomes my expression
How many people must be forgiven
till I make my days enliven
How many memories must I erase
till my nights are for your praise
How many whys must be understood
till I experience what is selfhood
How many hows must be explored
till your divine wisdom is poured
How many theories must be rejected
till your concept is perfected
How much of philosophy must I replace
till your discourse rules my time-space
How much science must be unendorsed
till the power of faith is the greatest force  
How many illusions must be denied
till the devil’s tricks are defied
How many steps must I walk
till your exaltation is my talk
How many delusions must be addressed
till with your revelation, I am blessed
How much should I strive for bliss
till prostration is like a bride’s kiss
How much repentance must accompany sin
till I witness a revolution within
How much from vanity I must flee
till you acknowledge my humility
How much caprice must be suppressed
till you say, “I am highly impressed”
How much inner purity should I seek
till fake beauty can’t make me weak
How much worldly glitter must I shun
till your rays are emitted from the sun
How much should I serve your creation
till I fulfil the definition of a human
How much should I revere your glorious name
till the key to your treasures, I can claim
How much remembrance do I owe your beloved
till I’m mentioned in the prayers of the prophet
How much self-worship must be undone
till I’m embraced by you, the Veiled One!

My fate has led me to love you, O Prophet, above all else.

In the fervor of your love, let my soul be consumed,

till Resurrection’s dawn has bloomed.

Captivated by your beauty’s gleam,

I wander and sigh, lost in a dream,

Perhaps unaware, bowed my face

in the wake of your grace.

Unveil my chest, witness the fire of longing within,

And my tears cascading in my heart’s hues,

unfazed by the weight of life’s turbulent dues,

for in your grace is the remedy.

Please, just take my hand and say, “He is with me.”

Years on this path, devoid of comfort or rest,

Falling and rising, weary and distressed,

Despair lingers, as hope fades from sight,

Show me a favor, restore my inner light.

Rise in my soul, let it sing like the reed flute,

Share the mysteries you know, make my heart follow suit,

Remember this servant, lost in life’s maze,

As you offer roses to the Beloved’s grace,

Despite my state not matching your radiant phase.

Everywhere is in darkness

Eyes are in search of you

People speak

but with words of hypocrisy

Lift the veil on your face

and give us a light

So all the frictions are gone in society

An eclipse has happened, eyes are in sleep

The fall has hit, all the roses have withered

Arrhythmia does not go away,

It feels like, this is it

Satan is the gardener, and the road is steep

Passion and enthusiasm are long gone

My eyes are filled with tears waiting for your dawn

I fear the books will record only our names

The saplings you planted have paled one by one

There is a bleeding wound in the hearts of the faithful

Memories of yesterday occupy my mind

Days longing for you are not bearable any more

Rise in our souls, so alien thoughts are gone

I am a poor one, I cannot endure your absence my Master

My head is at your doorstep, leashed at the neck

Let me die on your path, your name on my lips

How I wish I was your Mus’ab.

Revelation has come to liberate me

From the power of sin

That’s been integrated

As a standard of norm

As a power of hope

To restore justice in the world

Kingdom and power

All they devour

Assuming this life is eternal

False promises are all what they’ve heard of

Friday afternoon, children squeal, play,
families stroll, sit at small tables
under sycamore trees, vendors beckon,
old men sit in shaded classrooms
of the old madrassah, sipping tea,
talking of the book or politics or business
or the things of which old men speak.
The sun warms the stones, minarets, mosque,
walkways, cliff-side, the fortress above.
Glistening green and gold, the storied fish,
(Nimrod’s flames) roll slowly up, surface
to the food the children have thrown, ripple,
then curve back again into the darker green
of the pool’s still waters –
a holiday, a holy day, a day of wholeness.

Urfa, one of the ancient cities in Turkey, was heavily damaged by an unprecedented flood in March 2023. The Pool of Abraham (Balıklı Göl) and Gölbaşı gardens are believed to be the spot Prophet Abraham was thrown into fire but was saved when the fire was commanded to be “cool and peaceful” for him (Qur’an 21:69).

There’s a fear in my heart
A vision on my mind,
That someday I’d be lost.
Walking down the road
Among the ones who are lost.
A fear of ample pride,
A seed which outweighs
A million skies.
A fear of a light,
Which would make
A believer go blind.
Oh, there’s a fear in my heart,
That someday my deeds
Would fall short,
Infront of the one
Who knows what hides
In every heart.

~A.Z