‘Change’, A Poem by Nurat Daniju

The more things change, the more they stay the same.
It was something I kept hearing on graduation day.
I never knew what it meant until I pondered on it today.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
I look as the moon begins to set and the sun illuminates the sky with its rays;
but the Lord of the Universe will continue to Reign.
His creation always changes but His Perfection will remain.
Because the more things change, the more they stay the same.
As the seasons change the leaves will grow on the trees.
Then that same tree will lose its leaves due to the winter breeze.
However, Allah will always be there for those of us in need.
This is a sign to those of us who believe.
Because the more things change, the more they stay the same.
We have a natural yearning to want things to last forever;
however we always cling to the things in life that change.
Allah is our only Constant Variable and He reveals that to us with His many parables.
The Sun that lights up the Universe will eventually set.
These are signs for those of us who reflect.
Because the more things change, the more they stay the same.
And it turns out that we’ve been looking for true love in all the wrong places.
This world will elevate you one day and make you fall flat on your face the next.
But you should always have faith in Allah because He never left.
Even our best friends and family will leave us someday.
Because the more things change, the more they stay the same.
We cherish this world but it will never love us the same.
Yet we forsake the One who is closer to us than our jugular vein.
Solely focusing on this world will equate to no real gains.
Even Allah mentions that this world is only filled with amusement and play.
Amusement and play is what we focus on all day,
you see this worldly life diverts us until it’s time to go into our graves.
We all come from different walks of life but we have the same fate.
Because the more things change the more they stay the same.
We’ve forgotten our true Purpose so we no longer recognize ourselves.
So we’re constantly striving to accumulate more wealth and
for everyone else to think that we’re the best.
This isn’t just with our generation, this issue is timeless.
Because the more things change, the more they stay the same.
It seems as if we’ve forgotten about our true Home
and worldly things will leave you when you’re six feet below and all alone.
There will come a day where no one will remember our name
because the more things change, the more they stay the same.
We come from the Heavens which is the place we call home and
nothing here belongs to us besides our own souls.
Our bodies only serve as a container and the soul makes it whole.
We are lost in this world trying to find a place to go
and if we follow our true Purpose we can make our way back home
where everything last forever in a beautiful abode
which is a garden where beneath it
rivers flow.

The Fog of War (2014)

In the name of Allah, the Lord and Giver of Mercy.

The fog of war,

Flashbacks of snapbacks on the heads of the cool kids in my high school
The War known as the “Class of 2012”
Many lost their souls, I knew few individuals with great goals,
Lose their identities in lunch tables and classrooms,
In basketball gyms and bathrooms, I ask you to ponder.
Graduated from Islamic School, first day of high school was an interesting one
I still remember the gasp I made in 9th grade when that classmate yelled a profane word,
My head turned, hand covered my mouth as I thought
Authobillah! This is unbelievable!
Then the kid that was being cursed at said it back, putting arrest in my cardiac
Organs like wow this place is trash…
And here’s where something profane led to a realization that was profound
Few weeks went down and even I… became desensitized by the sound… Ponder
I saw a brother in the halls that I knew from the mosque
When I tried to say salaam, he ignored me and ran across
If you saw how fast he left… you’d think he played lacrosse,
To my football fans, he ran like Randy Moss subhanAllah…
The fog of war,
Memories of teachers teaching Islamic history wrong
And when I rose my hand to correct them they try to argue that I’m wrong
The fight’s on, arguments in classrooms
Kids in the class stay quiet,
Watching the slander
Making my people look violent
I remember having to talk after class with teachers,
They used to ask why do I always incite riots
“Be a good student, please remain silent.”
These are the memoirs of my high school experiences…
Taught me a lot, this environment taught people to act like something they’re not
Young teens can’t handle adversity with ease so they drink or smoke pot
They call themselves cool but really it’s less fact and more thought.
Islam, the lifestyle of the Muslim has protected me from the temptations
Because I understand that we’re all headed to another destination
And we need to act accordingly but our young generation is in a world
Where we worship man-made creations, ponder…
We know more about celebrity biographies, discographies, filmographies,
But don’t know much about the prophets and companions and their philosophies.
And honestly, our people are either acute, obtuse, or Isosceles
Some have a lot of knowledge, but not a lot of patience or akhlaq you see
The fog of war, life has its good and its bad
But I take notes, when I mess up, the pen hits the pad
When I mess up, I sit down, reflect and feel sad
But it’s back to standing up and being a strong Muslim man
I had a dream, maybe not like Martin Luther King
Here’s the story, I had a dream of a young man who was missing his pair of wings
He was sitting all alone at the college, he was thinking of many things
Then he met a polite brother, and asked if he could accompany him
In dreams, time goes quick, a few months went by
And that young man met the whole MSA group of guys
And then when they went to go pray, the brother wept, he cried
And the brothers consoled him, what’s wrong they replied
And he said, “I can’t lie! I haven’t prayed since I was 9!”
I woke up, his confession echoing in my mind
I got out of bed, because the azaan came. It was Fajr time
A few days later at school, I was about to go pray with the guys
And one of the new brothers pulled me to the side, and said
I wanted to say this for the longest time.
I don’t remember the last time I prayed, Felt like my heart died
Watching you all made me realize that in Allah I rely
If it weren’t for your examples though, I would have probably sat at that table and sighed
And then I interrupted him and said only Allah can guide
And as the day ended, I saw the fog clearing up
The battlefield just paused, as my eyes began tearing up
If you place your forehead to the ground, know that Allah is hearing us
So pray and make supplication, pray that Allah is steering us.
So to the brothers and sisters struggling with their faith,
Y’all are constantly in my thoughts
It’s hard out here, the shaytan on our blocks
It’s never too late to change, if you’re alive you’re not lost
We’re here for you, the first step is coming back to the mosque
My request is for all of us to ponder…

© 2015 Khalafalla Osman