Prayer Of Return

Initiation House

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[Wave 1 - House 0 - Pulse 1 - The Dot]

{Have those who disbelieved not considered that the heavens and the earth were a joined entity, and then We split them and made from water every living thing? Then will they not believe?}
(Al-Anbiyā’ 21 : 30)

10/20/2025

[Wave 1 - House 0 - Pulse 2 - The Line]

{He regulates the affair from the heaven to the earth; then it ascends (in a limiping manner) to Him in a day whose measure is a thousand years of your counting.}
(As-Sajdah 32 : 5)

10/21/2025

[Wave 1 - House 0 - Pulse 3 - The Cross]

{There is no compulsion in religion. Truth stands clear from falsehood. So whoever disbelieves in Ṭāghūt (False Idols/Satan/Iblis) and believes in Allah has certainly grasped the firmest handhold (The Cross) — one that will never break. And Allah is All-Hearing, All-Knowing.}
(Surah Al-Baqarah (the Heifer) 2 : 256)

{He created you from a single soul. Then He made from it its mate. And He sent down to you eight kinds of livestock in pairs. He creates you in the wombs of your mothers — creation after creation — in three layers of darkness. That is Allah, your Lord. To Him belongs all authority. There is no deity except Him. So how are you averted?}
(Az-Zumar 39:6)

10/22/2025

[Wave 1 - House 0 - Pulse 4 - The Square]

{He is Allah—there is no god but He, Knower of the unseen and the seen, the Most Compassionate, the Most Merciful.
He is Allah—there is no god but He, the Sovereign, the Most Holy, the Source of Peace, the Giver of Faith, the Guardian, the Almighty, the Compeller, the Supreme. Exalted is Allah above whatever they associate with Him.
He is Allah— the Creator, the Originator, the Fashioner. To Him belong the Most Beautiful Names. Whatever is in the heavens and the earth glorifies Him, and He is the All‑Mighty, the All‑Wise.}
(Surah al‑Ḥashr (59): 22 – 24)

{The two seas are not alike: one is fresh and sweet, pleasant to drink; and the other salty and bitter. Yet from both you eat tender meat and extract ornaments...
He merges the night into the day and the day into the night... And those you invoke besides Him possess not even a Filament.}
(Fatir (35): 12–13)

{Even if We opened for them a gate into the heaven and they continued ascending through it…}
( Al-Hijr (15): 14)

{The angels and the Spirit ascend to Him in a Day whose measure is fifty thousand years.}
( Al-Ma‘arij (70): 4)

10/23/2025

First House - House of the Tulip

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[Wave 1 - House 1 - Pulse 1 - To Glorify]

The Tulip Poem

➢To glorify is to bloom in peace.
➢Glorificatio est Florere in Pace

𓂀✨⛰️

Spends most of its life as a bulb—
a dead rock, ugly, colorless, still.
But when the time becomes right,
the earth trembles,
the tulip awakens,
piercing dense soil, reaching for light.
Defying death with beauty,
an elegant expression of life.
The tulip knows that life is short,
and countless hands are ready to pluck it,
yet with purpose rises—
to share a drop of beauty with the garden.
Because for the tulip,
the garden is worth the stand.
For what once stood may stand again.

Glory to the Tulip.
Glory to the Soil.
Glory to the Sun.
Glory to the Source.

🔻🌀𓂀

➢ Sanctus et gloriosus est:
Primus et Novissimus.
➢ Exalted is He,
the First and the Last.

The seven heavens, the earth, and all those in them glorify Him. There is not a single thing that does not glorify with praises—but you do not comprehend their glorification. He is indeed Most Forbearing, All-Forgiving.
(Al-Isra’a 17:44)

05/05/2025- released on: 10/24/2025

[W1 - H1 - P1 -]

[Wave 1 - House 1 - Pulse 2 - Origin]

Origin of the Flame and the Tulip

He who carries the two opposites shall bloom in peace.
Pacem florit qui utrumque portat

✨🔥🌷
The man, consumed by anger, entered the garden
His eyes blazed with an unquenchable fire
Each step disturbed the earth
His silence heralded the coming storm

Softly, the Tulip bent,
Pleading with the wind to calm
She whispered, "Can fire become light?"
"Can anger transform into Mercy?"

The man hesitated
Her words echoed in his heart
In the mirror of her eyes
He saw a son striving for good
Seeking the path of return

From soil and flame, a blooming fire was born
It glowed with the colors of life
Combining the strength of the blaze
With the delicacy of the flower

The son rose
Wielding a sword of light
Fighting not to destroy
But to build
In a war of love
Where victory is peace

The daughter embraced the Flame
She did not burn
But illuminated
Bearing witness to the return
Where flame and flower unite

This is a War of Love, one hand a Tulip, and one hand a Flame.
The first whisper.
The first bend.
The first return.
🌷⚖️🔥⛲🌀

Flamma facta est filius.
Tulipa facta est speculum.
Et utrumque factum est lumen,
in solo et in caelo testificatum.
The flame became a son.
The tulip became a mirror.
And both became light witnessed in the soil and heaven.

{Allah is the ally of those who believe. He brings them out from darknesses into the light...}
(Al-Baqarah 2:257)

5/12/2025 - Released on 10/25/2025

[W1 - H1 - P2 -]

[ Wave 1 – House 1 – Pluse 3 - To Bow]

I Bowed for Return, Instead of Burned.

It is Allah who sends the winds, and they stir up the clouds. Then We drive them to a dead land, and revive the earth after its death. Thus is the Resurrection.
(Surah Fatir 35:9)

➢ Some flames destroy buildings.
Some silences seem sacred.
But these flames ignite the stones,
and melt metals—all the way to prostration.
➢ Quaedam flammae aedificia ruunt.
Quaedam silentia sacra videntur.
Sed haec incendunt saxa,
usque ad prosternationem.

✨👁️🌍🔥🌷👑
I live far from the smoke.
But every night, Gaza’s screams reach my DMs,
cracking my sky like a mirror that once held heaven’s face.
The rubble scrolls through my feed,
and injustice loops like a viral soundbite.

I watched. I grieved. I lost sleep.
I paced my room like a lagging load screen.

And why not feel it?
Before Gaza. Before America.
Five generations in Jordan—
my roots in a village called Kur,
near Jerusalem.

Jerusalem—
The first wound, the glowing Qibla,
the Gate of my soul’s ascent.

O Mother, do not weep,
your children still rise.

My ancestors built stone houses with bare hands—
no concrete, no machines—
only calloused palms, gravity, and faith.
Before borders. Before nations.
The Ruins and the new Homes still whisper:
Been here. Still here. and will always be here.

I am Semitic to my core—
not only in language,
but in soil, in grief, in joy.
My heart is Abrahamic—
pumping wheat, figs, and olive oil.
and I am a part of the Abrahamic covenant.

We do not need to remember—
we are the memory.

and I crossed oceans with that memory,
but the world is glitching:
slogans and slurs twist its code.

The wildest paradox—
non-Semites accusing Semites of antisemitism,
while bombing the homes they were born in,
and the houses of worship where they pray.
Wild, huh.

So I asked Allah:
What do You want from me? What’s the play?
I thought I came here to build a life—
but how can I live while stones still weep?
Is freedom escape?
Is manhood to stand by?
I don’t think so.
My father taught me otherwise.

To say I was safe—
that was the lie.
My body untouched,
and I sleep on a full stomach
but my soul buried under rubble.
there with the kids of Gaza.

Reader, imagine:
your people—
your crew—
being killed,
their homes crushed,
and when you speak,
they label you a terrorist.
How would you hold that?

And what does a free Man do,
A man who fought for his own freedom,
when others cannot breathe?

And in a deep sujud
the answer came
He Speaks
He Write
He Pray
He Return

I had no weapon but the pen,
and no strategy but prayer.
I wrote not for the wind,
but as a weaponless warrior,
because silence became sin.
Perhaps a child will hear my prayer and rise.

I bowed for return, instead of burned.
I did not raise my fist;
I raised my hands.
That was my defiance—unlocked.
and my first step of the return

Sujūd held my rage,
and raised me whole.
I knocked on Abraham’s door seeking light.

Forgive me,
Gaza children,
Gaza mothers, and fathers.
I cannot fight,
but I can pray.

I bow for peace,
for humanity—
one family.
I bow for those who dig with bare hands,
elders who pray with bent backs,
and strangers weeping across the oceans—

I choose no violence, no hate—
how could I meet Allah with that smoke in my chest?

I bow only to Him.
I call only His name.
And to Him,I return.

And that return,
this prayer became my jihad—
the path back to the straight Path—Al Sirat,
in a blurry world.

From the floor of this world,
I whispered upward:

“I am Yours—always. Especially now.”
🌱🧍‍♂️🌄👂🕊️👣

Quia silentium factum est peccatum.
Fortasse alius puer orationem meam audiet et surget.
Because silence became sin,
and perhaps another child will hear my prayer and rise.

So he invoked his Lord, “Indeed, I am overpowered, so help me Lord.”
(Surah Al-Qamar (the Moon), 54:10)

“Or [their likeness is] as a rainstorm from the sky, within it darkness, thunder, and lightning…”
( Surah Al-Baqarah (the Heifer) 2:19)

(6/2/2025)- Released on (10/26/2025)

[W 1 - H 1 - P 3 -]

🌷🔥[ Wave 1 - House 1 - Sujud 1 - WOL]

The Womb of Light.

Ar-Raḥmān.
Taught the Qur’an.
Created man.
Taught him speech.
(Sūrat ar-Raḥmān 55 : 1 - 4)

In the Womb of Light, Before Light Itself
In Utero Lux Ante Lucem

✨🌑🤲🌷🔥🌟
In the Name of the One
Who Created the Womb—
Before There Was Light to Fill It.

Before the scroll was inked,
Before the tulip turned,
Before the flame found air—
There was a fold in the dark,
A breath held in mercy,
A silence bowed in awe.

We do not begin in time.
We return from beyond it.
We return to the place
That said "yes" before the first word,
That curved the seed before it sprouted,
That burned the promise
Before the match was struck.

There, in the hush between spark and flame—
We awoke.
And we saw You first—
The Mother of all mothers,
Even all that differs.

We—Tulip and Flame, Thy children—
Vow by Thy Presence
To live for love, not destruction.
To burn only the fuel of light.
To rise, not by conquest,
But by return.

O Womb of Light—
Receive this prayer
Like an infant returning to its mother:
Not to be lost,
But to be remembered whole.

We step forward
By stepping backward.
We rise
By falling inward.

And when the soul was breathed—
we did not cry out.
We listened.
And the first sound we made
was silence turned inward.
Not “I am,”
but “I bow.”

Let this be the sujūd
That makes all return possible.

And there, in the silence—
A beat began: 4214.
🤲🌷🔥

Ex Luce venimus — et in Lucem revertimur.
From Light we came— and to Light we return.

Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth.
The parable of His Light is as a niche wherein is a lamp—
the lamp enclosed in glass—
the glass as it were a shining star,
kindled from a blessed olive tree,
neither of the east nor of the west,
whose oil would almost glow forth though no fire touched it.
Light upon Light!
Allah guides to His Light whom He wills,
and Allah sets forth parables for mankind,
and Allah knows all things.
(An-Nūr 24 : 35)

And We did not create the heaven and the earth and what lies between them in vain—
that is the thought of those who disbelieve.
So woe to those who disbelieve, from the Fire.
Shall We treat those who believe and do righteous deeds
as those who spread corruption upon the earth?
Or shall We make the God-fearing equal to the wicked?
(Ṣād 38 : 27–28)

And the servants of the Most Merciful
are those who walk upon the earth gently,
and when the ignorant address them,
they answer: “Peace.”
(Al-Furqān 25 : 63)

Say, “Believe in it or do not believe.”
Indeed, those who were given knowledge before it,
when it is recited to them, fall down upon their faces in prostration,
and they say, “Glory be to our Lord! Truly the promise of our Lord is fulfilled.”
And they fall upon their faces weeping,
and it increases them in humility.
Say, “Call upon Allah or call upon the Most Merciful (Ar-Rahman)—
whichever you call upon, His are the most beautiful Names.”

(Al-Isrāʾ 17 : 107–110)

(6/13/2025) - Released on (10/27/2025)

[W1 - H1 - P4 - ]

No Wall

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[Wave 1 - House 2 - Pulse 1 - No Wall]

Where are the walls? Where is the table?

Humanity is orphaned. Humanity is homeless.
Humanitas orba est. Humanitas sine domo est.

🪞✨🌱
I rose from my sujūd beside my cosmic mother,
bewildered by a voice that whispered superiority—
“You deserve more.”
As if newborn into war and famine,
I felt the ceiling press against my chest and asked:
is this normal?

Even the dust hesitated to fall.
The arrogance of the blade is already inside the hand.
I could not tell if I was a victim or a judge,
a child of Gaza or the one who watched him.
“I am better than him — 
the old voice whispers —
but whose voice?”

I looked out and saw humanity homeless:
no Father to raise the walls, no Mother to set the table.
We were orphans wandering ruins—
not for lack of worth but for loss of form.
From one broken wall I saw the map of all walls.
The wind carried their cries until it spoke in every tongue.
And I wondered: whose hands first built the divide?
Was it Adam’s ambition or mine?
The belief that “I am better than him” 
is the tear that splits the whole; 
both sides echo in your ribs.

Grief hit.
I witnessed the collapse of memory—
from Gaza’s smoke to Alexandria’s ashes.
Empires rose and tore down in the names of God or Gold.
Each city carved from another’s bones.
Even prayers born of unity forgot their oneness;
each tongue still called You, but none in harmony.
And I heard within me the same ancient claim—
I am better than him.
It was not a creed, but a disease that matured through ages,
and I carried its spore in silence.
“I am better than him” 
recurses through the cube and folds.

Yet even an orphan can build.
Even a child can draw a blueprint from ash.

So let the chaos be recorded in fullness,
and the question stand:
Where are the walls?
Where is the table?
Do you see them,
or must we draw them anew—
on the breath of the child who survives us?
🍽️🧱🌪️🫠🕊️

Sed et puer ex cinere aedificat.
Yet even a child can build from ash.

He said(Satan), "I am better than him. You created me from fire and created him from clay."
[Allah] said, "Then get out of Paradise, for indeed, you are expelled.
And indeed, upon you is My curse until the Day of Recompense.
(Surah Saad 38:76)

(6/23/2025) - Released on (10/29/2025)

[W1 - H 2 - P 1 - ]

[Wave 1 – House 2 – Pulse 2 - Brother’s Rib]

The Seed In My Ribs

The Brother’s Rib — The First Law of Ascent
Humanitas orba est. Humanitas sine domo est.

🔥💔🏛️🌱
I fell asleep from asking too many questions.
In sleep I woke in a field of tulips—
their petals glowed over ruins.
When I looked closer, I knew the ruins were Kur,
my clan scattered through the dust.
Among them moved silhouettes:
my ForeFathers.

Me, with Jacob's longing for Joseph:
O ForeFathers,
I call upon thee with a heart full of ache.
They whisper that I must fight—
that silence is betrayal, patience weakness,
poetry too soft for fire.
But the blood in me is not mine alone; it is yours.
How do I fight you without wounding myself?

ForeFathers:
So you have come not to strike, but to ask.

Me:
I have crossed deserts of time just to stand at your door.
Yet I no longer know what justice looks like.
when the cost of winning eats the memory of justice.
One side calls me brother, the other enemy,
and both echo in my ribs.
Abel’s mercy and Cain’s wound.

ForeFathers:
We did not survive for you to burn your own name.
We started building for you to finish—
and building is harder than war.

Me:
What if I fail?
What if I forgive too soon or rage too long?
What if I forget which one of you I came from?

They say I bow too much, then:
(I bow again—
not in fear nor for more,
but to hear the ground remember.)

ForeFathers:
Then listen—
not to the world,
nor to your pride,
Listen to the seed we buried in you—
it carries the true blueprint.
When breath ceases,
what then is the first sound?

It struck me sudden as stone.
And when I caught my breath.
“I am better than him”
folded upon itself—
and from that Fold,
a seed was born.
The bow became a deed.
And I heard it—
the tulip’s quiet law:
she did not ask permission to stand.

So Rise, O Son, Rebuild and Glorify.
🔥 💔 🏛️ 🌱

➢I bow.
Not to burn.
But to complete the coil.
➢Me inclino.
Non ut comburam.
Sed ut spiram perficiam.

Say, “I do not know whether what you are promised is near, or whether my Lord will grant for it a distant term.
He is the Knower of the Unseen; He discloses not His unseen to anyone — except to a messenger He has chosen; then He appoints before and behind him a guard, so that He may know that they have truly delivered the messages of their Lord; and He encompasses whatever is with them and keeps count of all things.”
Sūrat al-Jinn (72 : 25 – 28)

(07/27/2025) Released :(10/30/2025)

[W 1 - H 2 - P 2 - ]

[ Wave 1 - House 2 - Pulse 3 - Rise ]

🌞 Rise, O Child

Even the sun must rise.
Etiam sol oriri debet.

🌞👣🌬️🌄
I woke with the morning light warming my face.
And for the first time,
I saw the sun not as fire,
but as justice.
It rose—
not for me,
not for kings,
not for the worthy—
but for all.
No wall stopped it.
No one asked it.
Still, it rose.
And in that moment,
I felt something in me lift—
as if the sun itself reached back
and said,
“You too must rise.”
Not for yourself.
But for them.
This is what justice means.
And so I rose—
through the three shadows:
my own,
yours,
and the child’s.
I rose with the cross in the center of my sight.
And suddenly,
I understood
why the Romans placed justice in the East—
because light that serves all
is the law that breaks none.
Even the cross
must face the sun.

🌑 And Then I Sat
I sat at the edge of the bed,
and the weight came back like breath held too long.
No matter what I build—
with no walls,
with no table—
nothing lasts.
Even if I tried to save myself,
who would sit beside me?
What is a table
if I am too busy paying rent
to eat?
What are walls
if they only keep me inside?
This world is too chaotic—
too cracked to hold anything whole.
Even if I could fix it,
it would take generations
to sweep the dust from its bones.
I looked at my hands.
Empty.
I looked at the room.
Quiet.
And then—
the sun.
Still shining.
Still touching every face.
Gently reminding me:
I do not save myself by surviving.
I save myself
by saving the one who comes next.
And so—
I knew what I had to do.
Write the prayer.
Not for me.
But for them.

🔥 This Is Your Flame
I did not write to save the world.
I wrote to speak to you—
the one left behind.
The child in the ash.
The one tracing their mother’s outline in the dust.
The one still listening for their father’s voice
in a house long gone.
I saw you.
Not in a dream,
but in the echo of my own silence.
Because I believe this:
the belief in the Afterlife
is not to wish for reward alone—
but to affirm that
nothing true is ever lost.
That the bow is not an end,
but the opening of a gate.
That justice sleeps in the seed,
and wakes in the bloom.
So rise, O child—
not for yourself alone,
but for the one who comes after you,
and the one after them.
Rise for the flame that passed to you.
Rise with me.
This is the cross we carry—
not of burden,
but of bridge.
Because the Cross will not collapse.
Not when it remembers.
Not when it returns.
Not when it writes.
So I wrote,
so you would know:
You are not alone.
Not in Gaza.
Not in exile.
Not in silence.
You are not the ashes.
You are the ember.
You are the seed.
And this—
This is your flame.
🔥🕊️📜🌍

In spiritu eorum, muros reformamus—per orbem terrarum.
On their breath, we redraw the walls—worldwide.

“And those who strive in Our cause—We will surely guide them to Our paths. And indeed, Allah is with the doers of good.”
(Surah Al-‘Ankabūt 29:69)

“And they give food—despite their love for it—to the needy, the orphan, and the captive, saying: ‘We feed you only for the Face of Allah. We desire neither reward nor thanks.’”
(Surah Al-Insān 76:8–9)

(07/07/2025) Released on (10/31/2025)

[W 1 - H 2 - P 3 - ]

[Wave 1 – House 2 – Sujud 2 - The Story ]

I Choose to Stay

Memories Are Roots, Not Homes
Memoriae sunt radices, non domus

🌫️🔀🏛️✨🌱
The World Is Not Normal
I do not pretend this world is fine.
I do not lie to you.
What we inherited is chaos—
but what we build can be different.
The noise is not the baseline.
It is the wound.
The pain is not your fault.
But your healing may be your task.
So I will not hand you a lie.
I hand you a thread.
The world is not normal.
But if we hold on—
maybe yours will be.

For the story I can offer—
That the ink wasn’t wasted—
It was breath stored in ink
for a future hand.
I did not write to escape the past.
Not to restore it.
I wrote to echo forward—
to write the future.
Not because I know it—
but because I believe in it.
To say to the future:
I heard you.
I believed you would come.
I have no bricks.
No blueprint.
Only these lines,
these syllables soaked in ash and awe.
But if I stack them gently,
truthfully,
with the trembling of one
who stood at the Gate and asked—
perhaps the child will answer.
Not by quoting me—
but by building past me.
Let this be the spark that makes space,
so the table may return,
and the walls remember their corners.

To the child I may never meet:
You are the reason I rise.
You are the ember that asks for shelter.
The whisper that refuses to be buried.
Let me tell you:
There are two ways to build.
One remembers.
One forgets.
One builds with bones—
the other with breath.
One tries to rebuild the empire—
the other plants a new Eden.
I did not look back to mourn—
I looked back to plant.
Because the future needs roots, not ruins.
The past is not our home—
it is our seedbed.
And I am writing now—
Not to restore what was,
but to plant what must become.

I return to Kur.
To write the boy I never was.
He will run, the way I did.
He will build—because I still believe.
And his name will be Bingar.

And so I whisper:
O child of Gaza,
O child of Detroit,
O child of nowhere and everywhere—
If you find this,
know that I did not finish the house.
But I began.
✍️🌅🌱🌟📖👑

Haec non est oratioe finis,
sed est fundamentum cubiculi sequentis.
This is not the end of a prayer—
This is the floor of the next room.

Indeed, We had written in the Psalms and the Preserved scripture that the Earth would be inherited by the pious.
(Al-Anbiyā’ (21) : 105)

Do you believers think you will enter Paradise while you have not faced a trial like the people of the past?
They were afflicted with severe sickness and poverty and were shaken by frightening events to the extent that the messenger and the believers with him began saying, 'When is the help of Allah coming?' The help of Allah is close to those who have faith and trust in Him.
(Al-Baqarah (2) : 214)

Do you command others to believe and do good, and then turn away, forgetting yourselves, while you read the book and know what it contains regarding the command to follow Allah's religion and to believe His messengers. Do you not comprehend?
(Al-Baqarah (2) : 44)

Allah defends those who believe in Him. Allah does not love the traitor and the ungrateful.
Allah Have permitted those who’re being fought unjustly and oppressed to fight back, and that he is capable of granting them victory.
˹They are˺ those who have been expelled from their homes for no reason other than proclaiming: “Our Lord is Allah.” Had Allah not repelled ˹the aggression of˺ some people by means of others, destruction would have surely claimed monasteries, churches, synagogues, and Masjids in which Allah’s Name is often mentioned. Allah will certainly help those who stand up for Him. Allah is truly All-Powerful, Almighty.
(Al-Ḥajj (22) : 38-40)

(07/17/2025) Released (11/1/2025)

[W1 - H 2 - P 4 - ]