Spring's Gift - Shaykh Hamza Yusuf
I envy the sand that met his feet
I’m jealous of honey he tasted sweet
Of birds that hovered above his head
Of spiders who spun their sacred web
To save him from his enemies
I envy clouds formed from the seas
That gave him cover from the heat
Of a sun whose light could not compete
With his, whose face did shine so bright
That all was clear in blinding night
I envy sightless trees that gazed
Upon his form completely dazed
Not knowing if the sun had risen
But felt themselves in unison
With those who prayed, and fasted too
Simply because he told them to
With truth and kindness, charity
From God who gave such clarity
His mercy comes in one He sent
To mold our hearts more heaven bent
I envy all there at his side
Who watched the turning of the tide
As truth prevailed and falsehood fled
And hope restored life to the dead
Men and Women through him found grace
To seek together God’s noble face
I envy the cup that gave him drink
His thoughts that helped us all to think
To be one thought that passed his mind
Inspiring him to act so kind
For me this world is not one jot
If I could simply be a thought
From him to God throughout the ages
As revelation came in stages
I pity all who think it odd
To hear him say there is one God
Or he was sent by God to men
To hone their spirits’ acumen
It’s pride that blinds us from the sight
That helps good men to see his light
He taught us all to be God’s slaves
And he will be the one who saves
Humanity from sinful pride
Muhammad has God on his side
So on this day be blessed and sing
For he was born to grace our Spring
With lilies, flowers, life’s rebirth
In a dome of green like his on earth
A Tree Knelt In Praise
I know
that I shall never see
A poem that bows quite like our tree
A tree who like us loved to pray
In adoration every day
A tree who humbly knelt in praise
To God and never chose to raise
Itself above the other trees
Instead remained as if on knees
A tree who gave our scholars shade
And never asked that it be paid
A tree whose needles never hurt
But gently fell upon the dirt
A tree whose worth cannot be told
Or ever lent or bought with gold
A tree who showed us all its height
With God by bowing with delight
It taught us all to clearly see
A Garden lies beneath a tree
And then it showed us with a sigh
That trees, like us, must also die
In an age of folly, play and mirth
A tree has died with brow on earth
-Hamza Yusuf / March 2005