catholic, Christian Science, islam, Uncategorized

Fear Culture

We seem to be living now in a culture driven by fear:

“you have to do what we tell you or you could die”

“you have to do as we say or we will punish you”

“if you vote for the wrong person, you will suffer”

“If you don´t protest, communism, marxism or another ism will come and destroy all of us”

These are just a few choice statements heard over the last year and only one of them has anything to do with physical health. Yet we find ourselves bound up in the hands of what seems to be a person or system who doesn´t seem to know what´s happening. It changes it´s mind daily. It would be nice if there was one person we could blame for all of this but actually, even if we remove our governments and politicians these bad opinions about power over another will remain.

Lets look away from people today and see just what these things are: “opinions” – we can choose our response to this by loving. I find a random act of kindness, ordering flowers for someone a surprise phone call or text can really brighten someone´s day and also helps me to understand that in my world, there is nothing to be afraid of, in fact my life has not changed. Just one small act daily can be very empowering in the face of anxiety. As the song says “Love, isn´t Love until you give it away”

Let´s start by reversing some of the opinions fed to us daily, we can choose not to watch the media, get news once a day or better still get rid of the TV. Let´s make our own virus, one of loving kind thoughts which inspire and help others through creativity, kindness and generosity. You might be surprised how quickly other opinions vanish from our sight and how quickly, these acts of kindness can spread in what seems to be a culture of fear.

catholic, Christian Science, islam, Uncategorized

This is a Holy Time

As we approach some kind of ending of the last few months, these last days Ive really been realising and hearing the words ‘this is a Holy time”. Where we no longer have a physical  work to keep us distracted from the things important  in Life. We dont need to wait until Christmas to hear or say these words.

Close your eyes today and say “this is a Holy time”.

Reframing those close to you and in your home in this way makes a huge difference.

islam, Uncategorized

Husayn Ibn Ali – The Spirituality of Karbala

At certain moments a Truth appears and it shines in the darkness. That Truth shines like a beacon of light and from it, comes a new insight into religion, spiritual living and a new unfoldment of God. This Truth comes as a moment of time yet is timeless, like a burning flame.

As soon as a Truth appears, like a glowing light in the darkness, material living and different opinions work to get rid of it. In the case of Jesus Christ (on whom be peace) the growing darkness of human thinking immediately tried to put it out by killing him, not realising that Truth is eternal, a glimpse of heaven and as a result cannot be extinguished by killing the person demonstrating it. For it is Eternal – God with us.

For  Truth to be accepted it usually comes through one of the main great religions because people can relate to it that way as it is recognisable as a pure version of what was there before. It breaks dogmas, the views of intellectual scholars and restores spirituality where perhaps a previous message has been reduced to academia and where people have lost their way.

After that Truth has been proclaimed, it is almost immediately watered down –  people then try to interact with it in different ways, they cling to human words about it, they visit tombs where the person may have lived and died, they try to connect humanly with the torch bearer, instead of embracing the Truth which the person proclaimed, they rarely demonstrate it. The fact that these messengers died showed that they were not Truth in themselves, but carriers of Truth, and of course it means these people had a special message to proclaim but they did not wish to be worshipped. A better way to see them is with fingers pointing upwards away from their humanity and into higher eternal heights.

When Husayn (on whom be peace) refused to acknowledge Yazid, leading to his death at Karbala – we have to ask the question what was really happening there.

We do know that Muhammed (upon whom be blessings and peace) said  “He who loves me and loves these two, their father and their mother, will be with me at my place on the Day of Resurrection.”[19] and that “Husayn is of me and I am of him. Allah loves those who love Husayn. Husayn is a grandson among grandsons.”

Amongst Sufis, it has been noted that Muhammed (upon whom be blessings and peace)  was created from the Light of Allah (God) and the above verse implies that Husayn´s humanity has a special place in world history. That may well be true, however his message for humanity does not end with his human life, the message he brought exists in eternity, daily blessing humanity.

Let us consider though the spiritual metaphor for Husayn. We know already that Muhammed can be interpretated as “Light” in terms of a metaphor. So if Allah (SWT) loves those who love Husayn, we may be able to see him as a metaphor of Reflection. His role therefore to reflect the Light that is his Grandfather, the Light of God.It is a generally held concept that  the feminine represents a higher concept of God presumeably because of motherhood and as such it is no surprise then that Fatima´s sense of purity and trust in God would produce Husayn.  

Why do we need a metaphor? Because we want to see the message in a pure form, without personality worship. We want to understand the core Truth being demonstrated.

Human concepts of love, truth,  Light or in this case Reflection are subject to human insecurities. A concept of love without spirituality does not last and often turns to hate for it is nothing more than our brains trying to “love”. Our reflection in a mirror may be hated or loved, but reflecting God’s qualities is quite something else.  It is always better to allign these things with God who is reflecting all things good. Husayn clearly was able to reflect and see more of that good than most people at that time.

In order to understand Husayn, we must always begin with God and understand His all-inclusiveness. A true reflection is the perfect likeness the object it is reflecting. In this case, it was Husayn.

What are you reflecting today?

On a material existence, the body of Husayn, his daily habits, his life were in themselves purity, goodness and compassion, we see these as holy but we cannot leave it at that point. We must reach higher. His light he reflects shines into humanity, but on all other planes of existence as well. Not because of Husayn, but because of the Light itself. We can then, visit his tomb and read about his personality, but we are called to see that Light not only on earth but in all dimensions or reality, so we should look for it in Prayer, in Fasting, in Almsgiving and ensuring we also reflect that Light as he did. THat means seeing qualities of Allah (swt) in all of those we meet.

Nothing and no person can quench the reflection of that Light, in fact death could not even do it.  This is because the Light is timeless, eternal and ever present with us. There are those however who seek to lower our beliefs so we are unable to see that Light in our lives and we must be aware of that at all times.

Husayn came to show us the way – not to do the work for us. We must be ever ready to do our own work in reflecting, just as he did.




catholic, Christian Science, islam, Kilbirnie / North Ayrshire, Poems, Uncategorized

Poem for Arran and the Holy Isle

Oh draw near, Great Love Divine,  and sooth my waiting mind.

Whiting Bay and Holy Isle, surely all are thine, within my heart appears the long forgotten saints.

Passing holy hours, like a tired monk I wait to find you in the maze of liturgies and pathways.

My naked head does burn, like earthly passions turn, to a higher calling, to vistas set eternal.

With a yearning voice so strong, I turn to what I long, to find my peace in thee.

May the mountains of the isles teach me humility of heart, to see beyond the peaks of shortcomngs to higher views of Love.

The sweeping vistas of Love, higher than the highest peak, swirling winds appear.

The joy of meeting departed ones, to commune again on the shores of thine Isles, I wait, I come.



islam, Uncategorized

Sufi Poetry

Glasgow Masjid

How gentle Allah´s Masjids.
How Love can lie in stone.
Praying, welcome, smiles and joy.
As brothers welcome their own.

Beneath the Angels smiling
A house becomes a home.
When Love exchanged and men are fed.
No man is left alone.

For Love itself descends.
Like potter with the clay.
Moulding men to Love God more.
And better every day.


Mortal Thoughts
No mortal thoughts can hurt us now
We humbly stand in  prayer
silently with hearts desire
Allah has heard our cares

Our hearts own longing does he see
where  voices cannot reach
far beyond our duas voiced
or utterance of speech

Mortal voices silenced still
which claim old mortal thoughts
Whilst Angels draw towards him, whom
jihad of self has fought

Unceasing Love alone does send
our duas on upward wing
Angels exchanging  every praise
for graces they do  bring


A martyr’s blood a garden tends,
the time is always spring
their blood it feeds the frosted soil
and melts the hearts within

a martyr’s blood does tend the soil
and lives eternally
to raise the young like nestlings
who shelter in its trees

a martyr’s blood does feed the birds
and all who call their names
to implore Gods saving grace
and all our Faith proclaims

a martyr’s blood it flows in streams
in gardens, mountains, climes
proclaiming death is not the end
a bell of life it chimes

a martyr’s blood within the vale
through thorny briars flows
and deep beneath all suffering
lies a Godly rose

A poem for Friday Prayer

After Jumma shadow dwells back to the world we part

With a thought, a vanished hour with sadness in our Hearts

Yet souls, rise up on wisdom’s wings, with each prayer we find

Life has a higher recompense than just to please mankind.

Supreme and omnipresent God, guide us in wisdom’s way!

Give peaceful triumph to the truth, and melt our sins away

The Lamp of Hope

The lamp that lights all darkness, is drawn from sorrows vein,

Angels tend its lonely wick, to see its glow remain,

Its rays spark soft and gentle, its red bears many scars,

Hang in the sky like ruby stones, amidst the twinkling stars.

The Angel’s blessed scourges, are brought to feed the flame,

Tortures, sorrows, death and woes, brought in Gods holy name,

The lamp can e’er be followed. but never can be found,

Always lighting higher paths, which lead to holy ground

In Memory of a Special Trip to Radio Nederland Wereldomroep (World Service), shortly after its closure; Hilversum,The Netherlands

Gentle drops of rain upon the ground,

Mourning lost forever happy sounds,
A reflecting pool for thinkers wandering round,

Treading sacred paths with Abdul Haq.

Memories of youth in distant past,

Swirling round a huge transmitter mast,

While Angels whisper “nothing here does last”,

Treading sacred paths with Abdul Haq.

Staring in the pool with heavy eyes,

While Angels fingers point to Paradise,

Reflecting back a death I recognise,

Treading sacred paths with Abdul Haq.

A soft sweet figure swirls around my head,

It asks “why seek ye life amongst the dead?

Him you’ll find in all the paths you tread”

Treading sacred paths with Abdul Haq.

Gods unfoldment takes another turn,

Angels turn the wheel, new things begun

Presenting God anew to everyone,

Treading sacred paths with Abdul Haq.

poem on taking Bay’at 10.3.12

They came just after zuhr prayer.
Those wondrous words of old,
With Angels bending near the earth,
To hear one take the oath,

They came with Love and peacefulness
first softly like a stream,
Penned by a man who suffered much
to break earth’s empty dream,

They came upon earth’s angry sea,
Where ships are sinking low,
Where guiding lights are far from seen,
and man is bending low.

They came with staff and rod in hand,
To heal heart soul and mind,
To fulfill the laws and promises,
Our Prophet left behind,

They came and rest contented,
where seeds of Love are sown,
Daily in that London Mosque,
Which God himself does own.


The Star of Mirza Sahib,

There is a star whose beaming light
Shines down on all sublime.
It shines by night,
it shines by day,
And ne’er fades out with time.

It rose upon the river  Beas,
It shone on Ravi’s streams
A hundred years are gone and more,
Yet brighter grows its beam

There is a star whose guiding rays
Pierce through the murky clouds.
With purer light it raises man
Its truth speaks to man and crowd.

It rose up East of Kingdom Sham
It shone above fair Qadian
Now it shines across the world.
With renewed hope for man

There is a star whose shining light,
They tried to dim and fade,
But this lamp no man can quench.
Gods foundations have been laid


O’er waiting tasbih in my mind
there sweeps a power
Illumined thoughts that comes to man
each waiting hour

And o’er the angry waves of life
A man does walk
Though gone from sight through writings still
He comes and talks

Then His perfumed, sweet presence shows
a truer sight

With Kissed Koran, I wake to know
A world more bright

With tired limbs and burdened heart
Its hard to see
Where you are my dear Messiah
I long to be

Your lamp of truth it guides my boat
Upon Life’s shore,
The waves and tides that once did shock,
Oh, nevermore!

And now a white-winged angel  comes
and wipes my tears
I kiss my pain and praise Allah
Who’s ever near

the looming angel

Oh looming angel how you scold me,
forcing me to grow by day,
Honoured touch your lashes hurt me
still there is no other way,
Stubbornly I try to protest
as you raise the sword in hand,
sent by him who knows me better,
holds my life upon his hand,

Screeching on the ground with loathing
like a demon lost in hell.
Blessed lash you cleanse each moment
for my soul you will not sell
Your wings I hear them crash above me
brilliant white like clouds in sky
Legs like steel and eyes so fiery
I have no choice to do or die.

Blessed being soar above me
rain down truth to wash me clean.
Purer brighter understanding
From the worlds of all unseen


the little masjid

Small Mosque you nestle in the stars
In a city full of bikes and cars
An Azan called for Peasants and Tsars
Its Fajr Time in London

Algerians wave and pass me by
While Asians stare with big brown eyes
Somewhere in Lahore someone dies
Its Fajr time in London

The Imam comes and makes dua
While sounds are heard of braking cars
Brown men rush in, just make Fard,

its Fajr time in London

Its sunrise next no prayers are said
Arabs rest, the Mosque is dead
The Mosque floor becomes their nestled beds
Its Fajr time in London

Mondays faces have all gone
Today new people pray at dawn
Some look young  they sit and yawn
Its Fajr time in London

At Morden

Winding through the darkened Streets.

Passing brothers nod and greet.

On the floor we take our seats.

At Maghrib Prayer in Morden

Arab men they wash their feet

Tired children wake and weep,

Older men with beards they keep.

At Maghrib prayer in Morden

Azan calls us to the floor.

Iqama calls us just once more.

Haziq hurry´s through the door.

At Maghrib prayer in Morden

Wings of an Angel

Angels wings are all embracing, With the thoughts of him above,

Holy arms they lift us higher, To the Throne of Grace and Love.

Gently resting on those feathers, In the warmth of their embrace,

Rising up our minds from shadows, To a place of ever Faith.

Like a swan who treads the river, With her babes not far behind,

A group of Angels soaring upwards, To raise the thoughts of all mankind.

Yet still within the bliss we protest, Mistaking pain for downward flight,

Still each thorn it sends us soaring, Like a child with upward kite

O blessed Angels pointing skyward, Are Life’s tests which rest with me,

Taking me forever higher, Rising upward by decree.

Without the pain we cannot reach him, However long? We cannot say,

Long slender fingers promise heaven, But first the sins must die away.

White robed figures swirl around me, Angels Blessings? Allahs curse?

Rising upward nearing Heaven, Always better never worse.

When you feel that Life is scourging Rejoice an Angel does draw near,

Surrender to the journey upwards, Old beliefs will die with tears.

To Serve

In you my love, so true and tender, I know my life is but to serve,
Within your light of glorious splendor, The path is lit and well preserved,

Within your love is safe abiding, Far away from every tear, Sacred words gently entreating Lest I forget that you are here.

You banish every self made sorrow, Every anxious thought and care, Your message rises up before me, Now I see it everywhere

On being “different”

Breaking through my pains of darkness Black with worry doubts unclear

Lighting up the ghosts around me With a light so soft so dear

Filling my sad heart with gladness In its holy power grasps

Comes the rule to have to live by, nothing here at all does last

Islam in its blessed outpourings Godlike as I fall so weak

Conquering every single shadow,Bringing all I e’er could seek

With a kindness all divine like lifting me from darkest days
I hear the voice “Be strong go on now” lasting for another day

The Caliphate

O gentle peace and God filled  power.
Who leads us upwards every hour.
Like little birds flying out of sight.
Pray Sir, our wings keep upward tonight.

O gentle Sir, Gods presence here.
Wiping far each falling tear.
Like brother birds on same branch bend
Pray Sir that always we ascend,

Hazhoor keep us in your eye.
From time of Bayat until we die.
Like nestling birds whose parents raise

Keep us Sir within your gaze.

spinning wheel
like a gentle spinning wheel,
Inside my Master’s room,
Gratitude and harmony,
do strain around the loom.
Love for Man with every turn,
Is felt by bride and groom,
and as the wheel does spin its yarn,
old maidens in their bloom.
Never stopping ever weaving,
The loving wheel goes round,
Quilting good for every hour,
with blessings most profound,
Autumn winds and vanities.
Drown out many sounds.
Creeping maids and innocence.
Bring tears of age and frown,
the pedalled wheel continues on
Its sound is ever present,
exchanging gloom for happy days,
laments for every pleasance.
The Pulling Power of Love
The pulling power of Love we cannot escape from, Tender as the tenderest flower,
Stronger than a hurricane wind, Inevitable, patient, waiting,
Drawing us every moment, From the compulsive clutch of fear,
Don´t be scared of withdrawals. Love conquers all pain,
Love sends its Angel, Hope, that opens our bare wall from within,
Feel the Love flowing around you, And within you,
Stronger than the ocean waves, There´s no withdrawal of this Love from you,
Nor you from Love, For Love is everywhere,
Draw near, to Love, For it is pulling you,

with bands of love, Let it burn away the pain, which have no entity, identity or power.

Ever hidden jewels in caverns,
Lie the deepest thoughts of Man
where peace and love are always stirring
never near mortal demands
a place of calm and deepest refuge
a place unfettered like the sea
always stirring pure emotions
setting every captive free
like the waves e’er pushing forward
or the leaves in autumn trees
freeing man from his addictions
a place where every demon flees
Back and forth with branches swaying,
A breeze it sweeps upon the leaves,
Bringing man to stations higher,
Than at first he did believe.
Touching first the ruffled feather,
Of rested birds within their nests,
Then stripping through the thickened treetops.
Bringing leaves, autumnal rest.
Gently stirring garden blossoms.
Harshly pulling tidal seas,
Taking man to places heavenly,
Than he could e’er first believe.
He that walks the way with weeping
has no reward in time well spent
cheers and laughter in the suffering
are better signs of time well spent
Never tiring never sleeping
ne´r complaining about your woes
showers of roses fall from heaven
on those who learn to love their foes.
Broken dreams and heartfelt sorrows,
Always help mankind to grow.
For deep beneath the ground is stirring,
Tiny buds beneath the snow.
Pushing through the glasslike ice sheets
Pulling down the water earned.
Comes a bloom of lovely colour.
For which man has long since yearned.
When words of friends and foes despise you.
Give a thought to budding spring.
For far beneath your pain and sorrow,
A bird ls waiting to take wing.

I am a morning bird, facing you at Fajr hovering in dreamlike winds
around the petals of your blooming rose of your radiant heart light at Zuhr

Sipping the sweet white nectar of your divine love I am nourished and sustained at Asr
I am ablaze with whirling galaxies
of undivided joy at Maghrib

I am drunk and swooning as I bow to you oh luminous womb of your Great Heart to sip the rivers of milk and honey of your shining being at Eesha

The Guide

So constant shines your light my Love , through dark and lonely nights, glowing gently in the woods a guide for all mankind

Sometimes the glow seems weaker when my tired eyes do roam Yet ever burning still my Love You guide me gently home

At times the glow seems stronger,  when lit and fuelled by faith,  a never changing stillness,  calms my hurried haste
As you shine tonight my Love guide me safely through
teach me how to love you more how to rest in you

My friend Maghrib

He comes at sunset
we sit late into the night
staring into one another’s eyes
waiting wondering how many more times he will visit before Allah
We drink tea and read together wishing for some earthly emotion some permanence or hope we assure each other of eternity before Allah

I remember the first time we met as the sun laid before us
I didnt even know his name he just watched me as I wept before Allah

Sometimes still we cry together wishing in some strange way
that we never met each other
that we never knew what truth is wanting to live life like the world does before Allah

But mostly after the tears
we remember the promises
the ayats and the surahs
and we write them and recite them
hoping waiting and wanting and claiming to believe before Allah

today we have hope.

Christian Science, islam, Uncategorized

A Tale of Two Leaders

Mary Baker Eddy (July 16, 1821 – December 3, 1910) and Mirza Ghulam Ahmad  (13 February 1835 – 26 May 1908) have more in common than you might think.

Both leaders developed new scientific systems within their prospective religions, Christianity and Islam. He was nicknamed “King of the Sufis” and his movement became known as Ahmadiyya,  her system was called “Eddysm” or simply “of the Boston Craze” became formally known as Christian Science. Both were called to account and in public demonstrate it in front of cynics and both came from virtual obscurity with multiple marriages behind them, with their systems turned into multi million pound ventures  over time without much of a trace of their original message, resulting in fractures, law suits and continuing division today.

The Systems

Mary Baker Eddy wrote 17 “Official” books outlining her system of Christian religion which has  healing as one of its main attractive features. She reluctantly founded a church two periodicals and a daily newspaper which still continue. She wanted to be a reformer of Churches, but found instead that she was called to be a discoverer and writer to found her own Church,after she was rejected outright by mainstream Christianity.

Mirza Ghoulam Ahmad claimed he was the reincarnation of Christ (the second coming) which separated himself from every other Islamic group, who to this day  threaten Ahmadiyya members with death in most conservative Islamic countries.  Mary Baker Eddy claimed that she discovered that “the Christ” never left. In Some circles she was rumoured to be the “woman from the Apocalypse” or book of Revelation in the Bible which she did not deny.   The mission of the Ahmadiyya movement, according to Mirza, was the reinstatement of the oneness of God, the revival of Islam through the moral reformation of society along Islamic ideals, and the global propagation of Islam in its perfect form. Mary Baker Eddy felt that the Churches would “be taken one by one” as they discovered her message, which she expected to be completed in around 100 years from her statement (she said this in the 1900s).

Both characters vanished for a period of time to write and perfect their message making appearances to debate or comment on their systems at other times.

To join their systems, Mirza required a promise of ten conditions (which is an application form now, appearance at the AGM (Jalsa) and a formal interview) Mary Baker Eddy required class instruction if it was possible otherwise nothing . (Now its by reference and counter signature only).

Disputes after death

One of the main sources of dispute during his lifetime and continuing since then is Ghulam Ahmad’s use of the terms “prophet” and messenger when referring to himself.  His followers divided into two main factions. The main Ahmadiyya movement which has a continuing Caliphate who happens to be (at the time of writing) the Great Grandson of Mirza Ghulam Ahmad and the Lahore Movement who reject much of the “Institution´s” claims but still follow Mirza´s character and writings without making too much of him. Much of the Ahmadiyya work is shrouded in secrecy to avoid confrontation with Government laws where they may be deemed illegal. His writings were mainly in Punjabi, Urdu and Arabic which have been translated and copyrighted by various groups

Mary Baker Eddy´s organisation has been disputed since the moment of her death, with many people stating that the Mother Church was to be closed and reduced to a Branch Church status, this has been brought to court at least once in recent years. Her organisation then took control of its publishing arm (by force) and its branches (which were supposed to remain independent according to the Church Manual) asking the Branches to take an oath of allegiance to the board of directors  which resulted in many leaving to practice independently. Court Cases followed, freeing the name “Christian Science” to be used by anyone.  Historically the archives have been shrouded in secrecy, More recently a little more accessible with the founding of the Mary Baker Eddy library. Her book and most of her work thankfully now remains in the public domain. Thanks to a few brave individuals within the movement.

If you join Mary Baker Eddy´s material organisation, you become a statistic at the Annual general meeting, (your country might even get mentioned) if you join Mirza Ghoulam Ahmad´s material organization , there is a formal ceremony at their AGM called the Jalsa every year and signing the forms.  Or you could join the Lahore movement where you can complete the form online as long as you promise to pay money regularly, otherwise your membership will be null and void.