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❝ I grew up going to Sunday school
Little girl with big eyes and a bigger hunger for God Mouth so full of Arabic before I even knew what my tongue was capable of Allāhumma ṣalli ’ala sayyidinā Muhammad And that word — sayyidinā -- That master Sat in my chest like a stone I was too scared to name Because where I’m from, Master was not a title of love Master was not a title we gave willingly Master was the whip that bent backs Master was the auction block, the blood on the bark of southern trees Master was the reason my last name ain’t the one God wrote for me So how do I, a Black woman, Descendant of the stolen and the unspoken, Pray with the word master on my tongue and mean it with love?
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 "The Storyteller" - Thierry Lamare ❝ I am the Black girl that crossed the dark sea Carrying in my body the seed of the Free Now home on Native land I am the woman who worked on the field Bringing the cotton and the cane to yield I am the one who laboured as a slave Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave Children sold away from me, husband auctioned off, mamas voided too No safety, no love, no respect was I due A prey to white violence, a slave to white lust No value, low-priced Back then I sucked salt and bit the dust Four hundred years deep in the South But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth God put a dream like a steel drum in my soul Freedom gave fire to this body turned cold Now, through my children, I'm watching the seed grow, Post up like the Fruit, Now, through my children, I'm hitting the goal. Realize child the blessings denied to me I couldn't read then, I couldn't write I had nothing back then, not even the night Some days the road was hot with sun But I had to keep on till my work was done I had to keep on! No stopping for me-- I was the seed of the coming Free I nourished and nursed the dream, the struggle That nothing can smother Deep in my breast-- The Black mother I had only one hope then, but now through you, Black children of today, my wildest dreams must come true All you dark children in the world today out there, Remember my blood, my sweat, my tears Remember my years, heavy with sorrow- And make of those years a torch for tomorrow. Make of my past a road to the light, A revolutionary path Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night. ❞ * Written by Zaakirah Rose Dreams are often indications from beyond this place Where life plays out confined in time n space Intersecting with the mind yet flourishing from beyond thought A tale told without restraint meanings found yet at times lost Ever consider the entirety of That where they're from Just look at The Eternal Energy pouring forth from the sun This Fountain never falters and will never dry It's the What for all to notice - not the How or Why Dreams. Peaceful realities amongst this here show and prop Have you ever absorbed the Ultimate Reality of the thought Absolute is only One Source - Grand above all you hold dear Open yourself to This warmth and absorb truly without fear * From the Author Assalamu alaikum. I am 48 years old and I'm going through this life and its blessings with challenges looking to solidify and ground myself with good company insha Allah. I've sent this in because my Lord gifted me this blessing and I hope to give and receive through this connection with the Sakina Literary Society of the Arts. - Noorjahan Shaikh Would you like to publish your work with us?
Submit your work for consideration - we are accepting all forms of creative expression! by Peter Sanders A culmination of 45 years of a spiritual journey photographing saints of Islam across the world and decades.
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