Home / Features / Before Your Love, Ali

Before Your Love, Ali

Ya Mawla,

I wonder if it even fair
To ask myself who I was
If ever anything I was,
Before I met you,
Before I loved you.

I wonder how to call this state,
When one is just a scattered possibility,
When a human being is just
The random aggregation
Of barely pulsating dust.

I wonder how to call this state
When eyes perceive nothing more
Than a twinkling candle’s light
Fading away in the depths
of its existence’s vicinity

I wonder how to call a life
When air means survival,
Where water is stagnant,
Where love’s fragrance does not exist.

I wonder how to call this existence
When your wings are just an attire,
When your cage becomes your world
When flying is a word, unfurling just a sound.

I wonder how to call a vein
Whose blood does not circumbulate
Like a pen that does not spiral
Like brush that does not strike.

I guess it is not fair
To say that I existed
That my tongue tasted life
Before it whispered your name.

Ya Ali,

I guess it is not fair
To call this piece of flesh a heart
Before it started beating
Before it met your gaze,

Ya Mawla,

And if a bird is a bird
Only when it flies
Just like a wave is alive
Only when it crashes

I guess I was only that which one is,
When one is not, whatever that is

I was Nothing.

I guess I was the space which one occupies
When one is not, wherever that is.

I was Empty

I guess I was the moment which exists
When one is not, whenever that is.

I was Absent

This.

This is what i was,
If ever anything I was,
Before I met you,
Before I loved you,

Ya Wali Allah.

*Peace be upon you,
The uprooter of hidden polytheism,
The distinguished and learned,

Ali,

The Prince of the Faithful

*Ziyarat Nahya

About Reza Abbas Farishta

Check Also

The Will of the Blessed Martyr, Mohsen Hojaji

This year the beginning of Moharram coincided with the week of the Sacred Defense, or Defa’e …

Lessons from Karbala – Raising kids with empathy

With the arrival of the month of Muharram, the month in which Imam Husayn ibn …