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My Heart a Canvas, My Paint My Soul

The one whom the heart longs forI love Ali, with every thump of my heart, from 70 to Naught a slave to the servant of Mohammed(saw), I offer every surface of my thought. My life was spent the moment his arm was lifted on Ghadeer,  A moment, a marker that cannot be undone. His enemies till now no more than dogs barking at this setting sun.

The one whom the heart longs forAmongst the flowers I begin to stroll
My heart a canvas, my paint my soul
My love for Ali, my brushes stroke
Too bright for paper, this canvas soaks

A name not bound by the waves of time
Nor can these three letters kneel down before a rhyme
A name that still echoes the halls of the universe
“Fa hadha Aliyun mawlaa” not reciprocal nor inverse

Amongst the flowers I begin to stroll
My heart a canvas, my paint my soul

He cannot be painted nor contained
Like a sudden gust of wind unchained
His love harbors itself as an eternal whim
Within the corridors of our souls, inhabiting each moving limb

Amongst the flowers I begin to stroll
My heart a canvas, my paint my soul

The once living Quran, his words my next of kin
Like the oracle he remains but hidden within 
Sparking the silhouettes of wilted retrospection
A man of new, every day through recollection

Amongst the flowers I begin to stroll
My heart a canvas, my paint my soul

Shi3at Ali, we bear his name with no disguise
Like wildflowers grown towards the skies
Blocking the sun won’t prevent the heat residing from within 
Beneath the heavens, between the lessons, Ali lies therein

Amongst the flowers I begin to stroll
My heart a canvas, my paint my soul

I love Ali, with every thump of my heart, from 70 to Naught
A slave to the servant of Mohammed(saw), I offer every surface of my thought
My life was spent the moment his arm was lifted on Ghadeer, 
A moment, a marker that cannot be undone
His enemies till now no more than dogs barking at this setting sun

Amongst the flowers I begin to stroll
My heart a canvas, my paint my soul

Take your mind to Najaf, and walk across to his shrine 
Let your heart be mesmerized, and your tears his design
Walk the soft garden path of marble, let your feet roam 
Rewrite your life through each step upon the shadow of his throne

Amongst the flowers I begin to stroll
My heart a canvas, my paint my soul

He never ceases to be the strings tugging at my heart
His love is my master puppeteer, moving me with its Art
He is the living, breathing treasure that completes my scene
Forever and always I’ve crafted his name Ali within my dreams
He is the breeze through the leaves of my hollow being
And the ocean tide across my shore’s well being
He is the garden and I’m the flower and…

Amongst the flowers I begin to stroll
My heart a canvas, my paint my soul

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