Tag Archives: Rain

The Day I saw the Angels move the Clouds:

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On a most sweltering day, my mind began to say, “When will this battering heat ever end?”…

…Now, don’t get me wrong: I love the Summer just as any other, but the heat was very intense…

As I endured the hot winds from the Sun, I wondered, “How will the weather break?”…
It had poured the day before, so it would be no big deal to rain another instance…

Just as I was on route to another destination, I saw & felt water from the heavens, yet no clouds spewing them.
I knew, without any shadow of a doubt, this Sun-Shower was a miracle from Allah: all Praise is due to Him.

Then, some time later, around 6 or 7, this dark-grayish glow began to encompass all that the eye can see.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: it switched from day to night: was this for real, or was it just me?

It became so deary & stark, so dense & dark, that one could only think a raging flood was soon on its way.
Yet, Allah, above all things, gave NYC a break and told His Angels to push these clouds off-course today.

It was like I could actually see the Angels’ wings, doing things I’ve never seen before.
The different directions these Storm-Clouds were diverted to left me amazed, shaken to my core.

The Thunder, the Lightning, my heart pulsing, my soul crying…
…not knowing whether I’d be drenched or struck, frightening…

…This storm from yonder west, couldn’t resist the power of the Angels…
…when told by Allah, His minions moved clouds in all types of angles…

…All seemed clear, until another storm cloud grouping appeared…
…this time the gray-hued front spread even wider across the Sky…

…I was baffled at another storm coming, after one had already passed…
…I had thought it was over: Allah had other plans and no one knew why…

…Then, just as these clouds covered the Sky, the Rain fiercely came…
…washing & wiping-out whole blocks: no one on the streets to remain…

…And, even though the whole night drenched, by a storm seen for miles…
…I will always remember the day in which I saw the Angels move the Clouds.

Gareth Bryant/2014

“THE LOVE STORY OF THE SUN AND THE MOON”

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P.S… This story is dedicated to all lovers out there. The story (itself) is purely fictional… I just hope I don’t offend anyone

Allow me to tell you a story… And listen to what I have to say… A love story of the Sun and Moon… And the reason for why it rains…

Long before mankind was created… To live in the drama we call life… A dramatic love affair occurred… In the shadows and darkness of night…

The Sun was a brave and handsome Spirit… He shone the heavens above high… And he wore the finest of armour… That shined like a ruby in the sky…

The Moon was too a beautiful Spirit… She was the Mistress of the night… And the young lovers would dance together… Her evening gown of diamonds bright…

The Sun could see her beautiful face… The Sun could hear her beautiful song… The Sun could use his smell, touch and taste… To experience her sweet embrace…

But their love was strongly forbidden… By jealous Forces in the sky… Warning the Sun to leave his lover… If he didn’t, they threatened he would die…

The Sun did understand the danger… That his actions could lead to his death… But the sun would not leave his lover… He still loved the Moon with his last breath…

His defiance angered the planets… And he was taken to a place to be judged… The Planets also captured his lover… Against the Sun, the Planets held a grudge…

The Sun was stripped of his fine armor… To increase his humiliation… While the Moon could only bear witness… The Sun faced his adjudication…

The Planets charged the Sun… His crime was that he’d fallen in love… How could such an act be accepted?… The stars witnessed from the sky above…

The Plantets then offered to forgive the Sun… If he’d only deny his love for the Moon… The Sun refused to deny his heart… For what else could this young lover do?…

The Planets in their anger, took his eyes, his nose, mouth and ears… So he would not be able to feel her touch… The Moon cried a waterfall of tears…

The Sun was stripped of all his senses… And was left to shame and complete disgrace… But the Sun still rises every morning… Alive, but without a face…

The Moon understood his sacrifice… That was his testimony of love… And has vowed to stay by his side… To eternally dance in the sky above…

The Moon still holds her lover who can’t see… Or even feel the warmth of her touch… He cannot even hear the song she sings… The Moon misses her lover so much…

So the next time rain falls from the sky… Giving water for the earth and all the trees… Think of the Moon who forever cries… For her lover to return to thee…

So the next time it rains water… That falls to give our earth sweet life… Take a moment to reflect on the Moon… who will never be the Sun’s honored wife….

So those that have lost true love… Whatever the reason be… Rise up every morning… And shine for the world to see… And even if your separated, by a fate you can’t control… True love is always destined… Just shine with all your soul

MY FAITH TEACHES ME, THAT…

“There is nothing in the cosmos or on the earth that doesn’t come to the Beneficent as a servant. Certainly He (Allah) comprehends them, and has numbered them all. And everyone of them will be brought back to life, and come to Him on the day of Resurrection…”

But, those who believe and do good deeds, for them the Beneficent will surely bring about love.

Noble Qur’an: Surah Maryam (Chapter 19 verses 93-96)

Jamal Romeo Santiago Shabazz/2014

My thoughts about the Rain:

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The Rivers of the Street!!!

When it rains, it pours, as the torrential bathing of New York, keeps us wet & cold.
Winds direct this Rain, to every corner, block & sidewalk; it just does what it’s told.

The day-long down-pour, from the Sky, funnels down avenues & alleyways.
The Storm-Clouds are gray, thick & heavy, with Water; there are no Sun-rays.

At every corner, there’s a junction of the Rivers of the Street.
Storm drains are where all these mighty concrete Rapids meet.

The homeless dwellers, of our underground city, use these rains, to shower.
They only get one chance to get clean; sometimes it rains less than an hour.

For them, these Rains represent hope, that Allah has not abandoned nor forgotten them.
They just take what they can get; it’s nothing to us; to them, the Rain is a precious gem.

So, the next time that we complain, about the Rain, we ought to be more grateful.
This Water, from the Sky, nourishes the Earth, making plants grow big & fruitful.

The next time we get drenched, we should think about our poor, homeless counterparts.
We don’t care how it feels, being at the bottom of the barrel; it doesn’t affect our hearts.

They’re the homeless, living in Train Stations & Sewers; they wait & hope for the Rain.
We ignore them, without realizing that they’re those whose only lifeline is a Storm drain.

Gareth Bryant/2009