In the loud Chaos of life . I sometimes walk into the dark room with the bookshelf in the corner.I run my hands along the shelves and the spines of the books carrying dust.There is a mutual understanding between these books and I.The few moments i do come into the room , my eyes are restless in their search for one book in particular. The one with river of golden ink flowing along its cover, forming sacred words.
From my lips escape an involuntary breath. My fingers find the book my legs give way beneath me , and I am moved to sit on the cold, creaky floorboards. My heart sighs,finding relief. I open the book with hesitant hands any my eyes land on the arabic script flowing beautifully, like little boats swaying on the steady currents of meaning. My heart is aching and my eyes are starving as I read the translation in the language I am more acquainted with but these words would never do justice to his message .
My soul has been revived in the solace of his majesty. Tears well in the brims of my eyes as I found comfort in his words. There is finally quit in the storm of my thoughts. There is finally hope.
I remember who i am when i remember Him. I clutch this holy book to chest and close my eyes. A tear rolls down my cheek,and Smile cracks through my once rigid face, A face that has born many burdens that no would other understand, except for it’s Creator. I smile as I feel the warm embrace wrapping around my soul.
Indeed we belong to [Him],and indeed to Him we will return (Quran’s 2:156)