A poem by Dr. Umar Shakur
You see the state of states, we are the surf,
leftover on sandy shores by the waves of
power and sway
And so you turn away, o mohammedan
As though you only have despair and
disarray
He shed tears before your time for your time
Reminding you your home in Jannah is
beyond the trials of dunyā and death
He carried the words of He Who is All
Pressed to his heart by the archangel
A spark in the mountains of the deserts
Lit the world with light like no other
And so here we are o mohammedan
in Ramadan, the nation sick with fever
And we feel it in our collective shivers
But is there not shifā in the Verses
Broken letters recited by one unlettered
A revelation to be read in the hearts of men
Khalil, the Friend, a nation in one
whose house made pilgrimage our pillar
Habibﷺ, by Him for him, a nation perfected
Intercession his status, fear of fire deflected
if, dear friend, this mohammedan is
accepted
