Eve’s Reflection looks up at the sky.
It’s blue and white.
Do not the soft, soft clouds remind you of this world, child?
And does not the blue of the sky
racing behind it, mirror
the speed of your life, child?
Do the heart and the soul not yearn
to caress the softness of this wool?
And your heart, O’ your heart, craves the AL-WADUD
but to find your AR-RAHMAN, the AR-RAHEEM,
you know, you just know
you must listen to the shattering of souls.
And that is like the scratching of nails across a blackboard;
the shattering of souls.
You watch the white Wool of the sky,
and then at the speed of the blink of an eye.
A corner of your heart whispers,
“Hush, it will come to you!”
Hopeful eyes, scared eyes,
a faithful hand reaching out.
You touch the Wool into water
your heart smiles.
Eve’s Reflection was whispered a dream,
by AL-JABBAR, the AL-FATTAH.
The soft, soft clouds are HIS who is ASH-SHAKUR,
Our Reflections are HIS Who is AN-NUR,
The Dervish is HIS Who is