An Exploration of Sacred Parenting and Education

Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

A Short Story

In parenting, poetry, Story telling on August 14, 2013 at 6:20 pm

693523-yellow-and-pink-flowers-against-blue-skyI ran into a stranger as he passed by,

“Oh, excuse me, please” was my reply.

He said, “Please excuse me too;

I wasn’t watching for you”.

We were polite, this stranger and I,

We went our way saying goodbye.

But at home a different story is told,

How we treat our loved ones, young and old.

Later that day, cooking the evening meal,

My son stood beside me very still.

When I turned, I nearly knocked him down.

“Move out of the way,” I said with a frown.

He walked away, his little heart broken.

I didn’t realise how harshly I’d spoken.

While I lay awake in bed,

A small voice came to me and said,

“While dealing with a stranger,

Common courtesy you use,

But the family you love, you seem to abuse.

Go and look on the kitchen floor,

You’ll find Read the rest of this entry »

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Introducing Children to Poetry

In Education, poetry on March 14, 2012 at 11:26 am

“A poet’s nature is a quest from the beginning to the end. He shapes and nurtures love and desires. A poet is like a heart; without him, the body of a nation is but a mass of dust. The world is made up of pain and desire, and therefore without them poetry is merely mourning. But poetry aimed at civilizing a people is in fact heir to the mission of the prophets.”

Iqbal, Javid Nama

Read the rest of this entry »

How Do You Manage a Screaming Child?

In parenting, poetry on February 12, 2012 at 9:39 pm

The Master was once asked by his disciple,
“What is the Buddha?” He replied,
“The mind is the Buddha.”
Another day, when asked the same question, he said,
“No mind. No Buddha.”
The disciple was confused:
“But the other day you said, ‘The mind is the Buddha.’”
Said the Master,
“That was to stop the baby crying. When the baby stops crying, I say. No mind. No Buddha.’”

Some children cry, others however scream. Its like this primordial longing of being separated from their source, they take in that moment to be a toy or an adult leaving the room. My two year old son, Owais, has such a scream. It happens a few times a day. It always seems to happen when I’m tiered or frustrated. So bad is his screaming that on most occasions I have no other option but to leave the room. It then takes me some time to recover. Today, I ended up addressing his cry with a poem. The least it did was to remind me of the souls yearning for the Divine. Read the rest of this entry »

… because of Love

In parenting, poetry on February 3, 2012 at 6:54 pm

There is a dervish I know, when ever we speak, no matter what the question, he some how manages to come back to the same answer: because of Love.

What does unconditional love look like? Is it possible? Have you tasted it?

I was reminded of it today when I heard this song by Celine Deon. For me, no other song captures the love we may experience from mentors, parents, teachers, guides better then this.

Read the rest of this entry »

Finite Infinity

In poetry on February 1, 2012 at 9:16 pm

It is said a great poet (somebody remind me of his name please) at the time of Muhammed pbuh was asked why he stop reciting poetry. The Arabs at the time were proud of the eloquence and this oral culture was rooted in poetry. The poet replied ‘abad al Qur’an’? After the Qur’an? Such is the beauty and majesty of the Qur’anic Arabic that it can leave its listeners, especially the Arabs of the time, awe stroke, dumbfounded and shaken to their core.

I had a taste of that feeling today when I heard some poetry by Emily Dickinson. So filled with soul, she is said to have lived with a certain eccentric madness, Plato spoke of. I was touched by ‘I died for beauty’ but silenced totally by ‘solitude’

There is a solitude of space
A solitude of sea
A solitude of death, but these
Society shall be
Compared with that profounder site
That polar privacy
A soul admitted to itself --
Finite infinity.

 

Finite Infinity. What a beautiful paradox! Saints would taste that. I see it as a description of children. Do you see it too? I have much to write- but I prefer the space of silence to allow the poem to fly in….

“ Had we the first intimation of the Definition of Life, the calmest of us would be lunatics! ” ~ Dickinson in a letter to cousins ~