I Beckon You, My Friend Poem by Ahamad Ilyaas Vilayathullah

I beckon you, my friend,
To open your eyes,
And see everything around,
The diverse everything,
The sky, the mountains.
The oceans, the rivers, the streams,
Your image in the mirror,
And your shadow beside you,
A sunny afternoon.

I beckon you, my friend,
To prick your ears,
And hear all the sounds
That reach your ears
From all around,
The wind, the thunder,
The songbirds, the cascade,
The breeze, the little drops of rain,
That rattle on the rooftop.

Do all these happen
With none beyond
To plan and command?
And if there is surely one,
Behind all these,
Doesn't he mean anything
By all these?

Hasn't he given you a pair of eyes,
A tongue, and lips twain?
Hasn't he shown you
The two broad roads?

I beckon you, my friend,
To screw your eyes,
Prick your ears,
And besides, ask in frankness,
Who walked ahead of you,
Which road is the one
That takes you to success!

Bowing your head before
Another like you
Is meanness, no doubt.
But doing so
Before the one and only lord
Of this universe
That created everything
Including you,
Is elevation,
A most sublime
Kind of liberation,
For it enables you
To hold your head high
And honor your very soul.

I beckon you, my friend,
To listen to this call that
Everything in this universe makes,
And bow your head
To him and none else!

I beckon you, my friend,
To submit in full to him
And be a liberated soul ever after,
And be a winner in the hereafter
When the lord of this universe
Takes stock of things
And turns to everyone
With reward or torment.

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