On my way back to The One I belong to.

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  • sanjidashaheed 1w

    A new beginning

    She is in love
    With the sound of she.
    To her 'she' means
    So many things
    That fill her with wonder.

    She means
    The smell of fresh flowers
    Blooming in a garden
    That was almost uprooted
    During the last thunderstorm.

    She means
    Coming home to
    A room full of new dreams
    Even though yesterday
    Her hopes were trampled.

    She means
    Holding courage
    In her small, shaking hands
    After spending last night
    In the clutch of a dark past.

    She means
    Spreading subtle joy
    Just by her presence
    In a world ravaged by
    Hatred and hunger.

    She means
    Rising from rock bottom
    To light the path ahead of her
    To make the journey easier
    For those arriving next.

    She means
    Loving her own self
    Without a guilty conscience
    Even though they don't think
    She is trying her level best.

    She means
    A new beginning
    When she remembers
    That He is always with her
    And He is always enough.

  • sanjidashaheed 2w


    Fragile like
    A flower.

    Fierce like

    Her heart burns
    Like incense.

    Filling their souls
    With a yearning for love.

    Until they find it
    In Him.

  • sanjidashaheed 2w


    She used to miss
    Her predecessors.

    All those pious ones
    Who have left her
    Longing for a
    Brighter tomorrow!

    Now she fills her lungs
    With the fragrance of books.
    Where the scent of their souls
    Emanates from ancient words.

    Words bring her closer
    To those her heart
    Yearns for.

    And they are the ones
    Who kindle her fire.

    Now she is burning
    With the passion
    To spread love.

    With words.

    Just like them
    She wants to leave
    Bread crumbs
    For the souls
    Of tomorrow.

    For them to follow.
    And find the yearning
    To fall in love
    With Him.

  • sanjidashaheed 2w


    The roses in her garden
    Are growing in number.

    So are the thorns.

    On stormy days
    The thorns
    The boundaries
    Of her garden.

    And her walls bleed.

    The wind whispers
    To her softly.

    It is time for her to have
    A bigger garden.

    She moved the walls
    She put in her heart.

    Making room
    For more roses.

    Asking Him to
    Nurture her.

    A new self is
    Blooming in her.

    And she is getting ready
    To immerse
    In the fragrance
    Of her own soul.

  • sanjidashaheed 2w


    She is in the awkward
    In-between space.

    Wanting to spread her wings
    But not having enough strength
    To fly high.

    Wanting to come out
    But not willing to leave
    Her comfort zone.

    Wanting to be reborn
    But not having courage
    As her midwife.

    Wanting her dream to come true
    But not having the guts to
    Say yes to herself.

    Wanting to save the world
    But not willing to give up
    Her safety net.

    She is in that space
    That is at once liberating
    And constraining.

    She is breaking.

    Perhaps she really doesn't have
    What it takes to shine.

    Everyone else has figured it all out.
    She is the only one
    Stuck in this thick fog
    Of not knowing.

    Should she
    Still yearn to fly?
    Come out of her hiding place?
    Birth a new dream?
    Be brave?
    Take chances?

    She was making it
    All about her own self
    When it was
    All about Him.

    The life force within her
    Will not rest until she learns.

    Everything she is and she does
    Is meant to shine His light.

    And she will have to go through
    Her own darkness
    While she clings to Him
    For comfort.

    With Him in her heart
    She steps out to
    Say yes, yes
    And yes.

    To let His light shine
    Through her.

    And she is willing to
    Burn, burn, burn,
    To keep her fire alive.

  • sanjidashaheed 2w


    She used to ask,
    "Why me?"

    She has been through
    Countless storms
    That uprooted
    Her dreams.

    Her self-worth.

    Her fascination
    With greatness.

    But each time
    She has planted
    Herself back.

    And the roots of faith
    Have reached deeper
    Inside her heart.

    Now she knows
    Why her.

    It's because He knows
    How many storms
    She needs in her lifetime
    To finally have roots

    Strong enough to hold
    Heavy branches
    When her heart
    Begins to yield fruit.

  • sanjidashaheed 2w


    Her lips were parched.

    And she remembered
    That the remote corners
    Of her heart
    Hadn't tasted love
    In a long, long while.

    Her thirst kept her awake at night.
    Yet she delayed taking a sip
    Dreading December cold
    Going down her throat.

    Her throat began to feel like
    A sandy beach.

    It was getting impatient enough
    To throw tantrums just for a droplet.

    And she kept lying in bed
    Hoping she will fall fast asleep
    If she just ignored her need.

    Her chest was dry.

    Dry and uncomfortable,
    She kept turning in bed
    In an attempt to buy time until dawn
    When she would get up anyway.

    Her belly was whining as well.
    It was ringing an alarm clock
    In an effort to awaken her
    From her listlessness.

    There came this moment
    When she could no longer ignore
    What her body and her heart
    Were telling her in a gradually
    Increasing volume.

    The water bottle was just
    Beside her bed.
    The time came for her
    To choose between the discomfort
    Of freezing water and
    The pain of thirst.

    She chose to drink love
    In the end.
    Only love was worth
    All the cold,
    All the pain,
    All the discomfort
    Her human heart could endure.

    When she sipped love
    Love flowed through her veins.
    Renewing the life force in her.
    Giving her the strength needed
    To hold on to Him
    To get warm in cold, dark nights.

  • sanjidashaheed 3w


    Sometimes grace
    Hits her like
    A ton of bricks.

    And she
    Like powdered shell.


    She fumbles
    In the dark to find
    Any light source.
    To see all her
    Broken pieces.

    By now she has
    Forgotten where her
    Puzzle pieces fell.

    Out of despair
    And out of chance
    She gives up
    Her willingness
    To rise up again.

    It is then that grace
    Caresses her
    With soft rose petals.

    It is then that she knows
    How she doesn't need to
    Walk alone
    On her way up.

    Only when she falls
    And breaks
    She remembers.

    She was meant to
    Cling to Him
    On this bumpy journey.

    And ask Him to show her
    The treasure
    That she is
    Under her bruised
    And broken surface.

  • sanjidashaheed 3w


    This is how she cares.
    Not by exchanging small talk.
    But by inviting them gently
    To fall in love with Him.

    This is how she grows.
    Not by working hard to fit in.
    But by doing heart-work
    To be His favourite.

    This is how she learns.
    Not by studying academic books.
    But by following His signs
    Landing on random pages.

    This is how she explores.
    Not by going on adventures.
    But by diving inside to
    Discover her own being.

    This is how she heals.
    Not by resorting to self-help.
    But by asking Him
    To unburden her heavy soul.

    This is how she parties.
    Not by drinking and dancing.
    But by savouring in solitude
    Rare flowers blooming in her chest.

    This is how she vents.
    Not by complaining to people.
    But be crying to Him secretly
    When no one can see her.

  • sanjidashaheed 3w



    Everywhere she goes
    She faces mirrors.
    Everything reflects to her
    The reality of realities.

    Each reflection
    Is a split image.

    One half
    Manifests His signs.
    The other, how she
    Relates to them.

    Mirrors, mirrors,

    Taking her deeper
    Beyond reflections.
    A journey beyond
    Her self and the world.

    Mirrors, mirrors,

    A calling to look
    Beyond His signs.
    To find Him present
    In the mirror of her heart.