shining like a rough diamond,
chasing changes, gurus, clover, sound…
that thing to quiet the hidden doubt…
but you won't find it in the avenues of man.
It's with Allah. It's in Islam.
You've got African earth in your eyes,
saffron under your nails, star fruit, indigo,
snow in your midnight hair,
American dust on your boots.
It's not there, in the places of man.
It's with Allah. It's in Islam.
You're seeking lightning, heat, serenade,
and quiet whisper, truth or lie… a sliver of jade,
a sighting of something real, some grain
that doesn't turn, doesn't die, doesn't fade.
It's not there, in the breast of man.
It's with Allah. It's in Islam.
--
:->
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