أحمد عبدالسلام

“SHOW GOOD WILL TO ALL
Be fearless and pure;
never waiver in your determination or
your dedication to the spiritual life.
Give freely. Be self-controlled,
sincere, truthful, loving,
and full of the desire to serve.

Realize the truth of the scriptures;
learn to be detached and to
take joy in renunciation.
Do not get angry or
harm any living creature,
but be compassionate and gentle;
show good will to all.

Cultivate vigor, patience, will purity;
avoid malice and pride
Then, Arjuna, you will achieve
your divine destiny.”
― Bhagavad Gita

“There are some things one can only achieve by a deliberate leap in the opposite direction.’ —Franz Kafka”
― John Marrs, When You Disappeared

“If you truly want to be respected by people you love, you must prove to them that you can survive without them.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, The Infinity Sign

“Have You Prayed”

When the wind
turns and asks, in my father’s voice,
Have you prayed?

I know three things. One:
I’m never finished answering to the dead.

Two: A man is four winds and three fires.
And the four winds are his father’s voice,
his mother’s voice . . .

Or maybe he’s seven winds and ten fires.
And the fires are seeing, hearing, touching,
dreaming, thinking . . .
Or is he the breath of God?

When the wind turns traveler
and asks, in my father’s voice, Have you prayed?
I remember three things.
One: A father’s love

is milk and sugar,
two-thirds worry, two-thirds grief, and what’s left over

is trimmed and leavened to make the bread
the dead and the living share.

And patience? That’s to endure
the terrible leavening and kneading.

And wisdom? That’s my father’s face in sleep.

When the wind
asks, Have you prayed?
I know it’s only me

reminding myself
a flower is one station between
earth’s wish and earth’s rapture, and blood

was fire, salt, and breath long before
it quickened any wand or branch, any limb
that woke speaking. It’s just me

in the gowns of the wind,
or my father through me, asking,
Have you found your refuge yet?
asking, Are you happy?

Strange. A troubled father. A happy son.
The wind with a voice. And me talking to no one.”
― Li-Young Lee, Behind My Eyes: Poems