The true lovers of Allah worship Him for His sake and He alone remains their joy and ache, admonishes Rabia Basri in a spiritual dream

Last night I had a dream,
Close to real did it seem.

Across the streets of Basra,
Walked I in a state of doubt.

My mind: in pain put
My heart: with reason cut.

Appeared then by my side,
Who in His Love often cried

She saw the cloud in my eyes:
As if the Faith’s sun did not rise.

“About the paradise,
I am uncertain.
Its blessings
I cannot ascertain.

Tell me why:
The slaves of your stature
For paradise’ blessings
Have no rapture?

For the inmates
Has been promised:
The drink of honey
And the kiss of hoori.

But His lovers do not such desire,
Nor do they fear the Hell-fire.

Why do I not find
A mention of your-like?
Or did the Lord forget
Whom Him-like?

Tell me, O Rabia,
Lost in His aura,
If not of the Right Hand
You belong to which band?

Tell me, hey fearless saint,
Why His Book has not your count?

What is the reward for your love
Not hoori, honey, and rivers if you love?”

Feeling pity for my spiritual ignorance,
She bestowed me pearls of Him-awareness.

“O the wise one fooled by the devil,
Your heart with no-love has turned sterile.

A truth known
To this unlearned old lady
Why for the young wise-head
Not turned handy?

Have you really
Read His Book?
Or just cast
A ritual hasty look?

Did you dive deep
Or just a casual peep?

We are those
Of the Sabiqoon band
Our greatest bliss:
To be near Him-stand

The rest of the comforts
After that follow,
Honey and hoori
Are for us shallow.

We worshiped Him for His sake,
He alone remained our joy and ache.

You moved your heads and hands,
In desire to fly as heaven’s birds.

For we lovers suffice is He:
“His nearness, our Paradise.”

March 13 2008. Edit Feb 2024