The I of the Beholder
By weighing the count of forgetting against remembering, this poem proves that math always fails once the self dissolves in
No sooner the body heard
‘Meem,’
The soul swung:
“Mmm…”
Hey, Heaven’s Beloved!
Your evergreen thoughts
Make me crazy;
Your praised name
Gives much ecstasy.
Be it the spring of joy
Or the season of cry
When arrives the blessed moment,
About you one makes a comment:
My half-opened eyes close,
Unable to bear the brutal bliss.
My lips then move
At a moderate pace:
“Upon Muhammad be
Blessings and peace.”
Friday, 3rd January, 2003. Edit 2025
Mujeeb Jaihoon explores themes of universal love,
deeply embedded in a disruptive spiritual worldview.
By weighing the count of forgetting against remembering, this poem proves that math always fails once the self dissolves in
By weighing the count of forgetting against remembering, this poem proves that math always fails once the self dissolves in
Jaihoon explores the mystical paradox of the ageless, vibrant soul trapped within the decaying cage of mortality.
Fading stars require long waits. Yet, the Beloved of God transcends time, knowing your name before you even speak.