A disciple of the flower…

by Aly Sunderji

I was once a senseless grain thrown in burlap, I was numb and emotionless

I ended up somewhere up in the Arabian Peninsula;
a man who has no name had touched me.
He had turned me from a grain to rizq, I was then born in the form of rozi.
Deeply rooted in earth I ran my veins deep down…

The feeling of being dead, then born, then dead then born

I thought now lets start at the beginning before the beginning,
out of my head shot out a stem…I grew… I grew… I grew…

I dried up and died… when I died I started all over again…
out of my being came more grain…
I fear not death.

Nawruz is here, the beginning starts, and everything is non existent…
I do not exist… he does not exist… yet WE exist.

Who is me and who is thee?

Like an ink manuscript doused in water, I have bled and He has bled
and I cannot differentiate the difference between me and He…

I have come from Alamut, I come in your palm… I am not me, I am He…

When you partake in my rizq you become me…

Die to who you think you are, and just be…

I was a grain, now I am the master of all grains…

For after uttering this I am not me or thee I am you…
look in your mirror and be blinded by the
radiance…

Will I be sukram or will I be supaari… you tell me, look at me and tell ‘Aly

Nawruz barakah to we and to thee

‘Allahummaghfir lana dhunoobana, warduqna warhamna
Ya Shah Karim ‘Aly, amne rozi baksh’

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Notes:

Rizq is Arabic for sustenance.

Other poem by Aly Sunderji on this web site:
Aly Sunderji: Snow and Souls (includes profile)
Aly Sunderji: “Within the Strand of Saffron”