True Love

Khadijah

I read the story

of their love for one another…

How he would smile

just to make her happy.

How he would race with her

when no one else was around.

How he would stand and remain with her

for as long as she wished 

with all the people around.

How he would hold up an entire army

just to search

for her lost necklace.

How he would recline in her lap

reciting the revelation of his Lord.

How he would let her comb his hair

and scent his hair and beard.

How he would place his lips and drink

from where her lips had been

and how he would eat

from where she had eaten.

How he would give her a kiss

just before leaving the home

and how he would kiss her passionately

in their moments of privacy.

How he would be intimate and fondle her

even during her time of the month.

How he would call her

by such cute and endearing nicknames.

How he would express his love for her

and always reassure her of that.

 – 

And she,

she was so much younger than him…

And her youthfulness

and playfulness 

and prettiness

was such a delight for him.

But then I reflected 

on his first love –

his true love.

 

His love for the one

who was there for him

throughout all his moments

of greatest difficulty.

His love for the one

who comforted him

in his deepest despair.

His love for the one

who supported him

more than anyone else

in all his times

of greatest need.

His love for the one

who accepted him

when the rest of his family 

rejected him.

His love for the one

who stood by his side

through thick and thin.

His love for the one

who wrapped him in her garment,

but who did more than that

and wrapped him in her love.

His love for the one

who walked so many miles

and climbed the steepest of mountains

just to care for him.

His love for the one

who bore him all of his children

barring one.

His love for the one

who sacrificed so much of herself –

of her time and her wealth and her health –

just for him.

His love for the one

who was content to be

by his side

and remained loyal to him

even when he was exiled

and left with nothing.

His love for the one

whose demise

hurt him to his core

and grieved him more deeply 

than any other loss.

His love for the one

whose passing on 

became the cause

for his Ascension

and the gift of Prayer.

His love for the one

whose love endured

in his heart

for ever after.

 –

And I realised then

that his love for her

was greater 

than his love for the other.

 –

And she, 

she was so much older than him.

But her supportiveness

and tenderness

and lovingness 

meant so much more to him.

And thus he avowed

that his Lord 

did not replace her 

with anyone better than her.

 

~*~ 

 

Allahumma salli ‘alaa sayyidinaa Muhammad

wa ‘alaa aalihi

wa ahli baytihi.

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