Just a Day



Each day is but a sheet of lined paper

Clean and crisp,

Unruffled by worry,

Not worn, or tired and dirty,

But crisp like the morning,

When it is given to me.

The seconds, minutes and hours,

Are lines upon the sheet of my life,

Waiting for my words,

For my actions,

And my thoughts.

To fill the spaces in between.

I must stay within the margins,

Not scribble on the sides.

Write neatly, carefully, thoughtfully,

Keep in mind the One,

Who will read it all.

It might even be read aloud.

But every day,

Even with the best of intentions,

Though I start,

I mess up my page.

With angry words in bold,

Smudged with tears,

Crumpled and creased.

A few lines of gratitude,

Of zikr and reflection,

Are followed by many paragraphs,

Of  ugly complaints.

Regrettable actions, envy and greed

As my pen pauses,

View original post 140 more words


What do you think? Leave a Reply!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s