Aly Sunderji: A Disciple of the Flower…

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

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’



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”




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