Spirit
“Faith begins where control ends.”
Imaginary Wings
Only getting heavier
because your wings are growing.
Bigger wings fly higher.
“Growth often feels like weight before it feels like flight.”
When the world
gets heavy on your shoulders,
imagine
it’s your imaginary wings—
only getting heavier
because they’re growing.
Bigger wings
fly higher.
And that’s when the world
becomes as light
as your feathers.
Crafted Language
A crafted cadence
became a crafted language.
It’s all peace.
“Peace comes after the work agrees with the soul.”
Trying to find me
was insanity.
Delusional
to who I had to be
versus what I was meant
to achieve.
A crafted cadence
became a crafted language.
I shape these statements
from heart,
mind,
and patience.
It’s all peace.
Facial hair grown beastly,
sideburns kicking
like Ron Wesley.
Skillmatic.
Still magic.
I manage to average
ninety-nine lines a day—
my capital
increasing
since I found my way.
First letter J.
Last name: e la he.
Don’t mistake me
for nobody.
ALLAH really got me.
Letters for After
Since we know that’s impossible,
I write these letters
so they can outlive me.
“Some lives continue through language.”
I’m afraid to die.
I want to live forever.
Since we know
that’s impossible,
I write these letters
so they can outlive me.
Maybe I can teach
my children
and my grandchildren
the real me.
The meaning of truth.
The meaning of peace.
Show Me
God—I’m saying,
please show me
the direction they can’t.
“Direction is revealed when certainty is surrendered.”
God, now is the time.
I need you to reveal
the hidden line,
the path I should be taking.
My Apple Maps
has GPS.
My Google Earth
has destinations.
God—I’m saying,
please show me
the direction they can’t.
Not the fastest route.
Not the safest one.
The right one.
Lead me
to the place
I can stand in
and remain.
Cover Them
A quiet prayer spoken without spectacle—about trust, protection, and releasing control while still standing watch as a parent.
“I can’t be everywhere.
So I ask You to be.”
God, please protect my children.
Out in this world, living.
I can’t always be their security.
So secure it in me—
that they are covered
from the top of their heads
to the soles of their feet.
Holding Space
The path grows heavy when you’re alone and unheard. This piece is about presence without pressure—about holding space, breathing through the weight, and realizing that surviving another moment still matters.
“Nothing you say needs fixing. Being heard is enough.”
I support mental health awareness—
because the path gets heavy
when you’re alone
and no one knows how to listen.
The world already carries its own problems.
Still, you ache for acceptance.
For attention that isn’t borrowed.
For affection that doesn’t ask you
to prove yourself.
So imagine this—
I’m holding your hand.
I’m listening.
Nothing you say needs fixing.
Now take a deep breath.
Let it go.
Look—
you’re still here.
And that matters.
Be Optimistic
Optimism isn’t pretending
things won’t break.
It’s knowing they might
and showing up anyway—
without bitterness,
without illusion.
Be optimistic,
but only after you’ve learned
how reality behaves.
Be optimistic.
Move with intuition.
It ain’t everybody’s business.
Alignment
Alignment isn’t momentum.
It’s not speed.
It’s when nothing inside you
is arguing with the direction you’re moving.
No resistance.
No performance.
Just quiet agreement between who you are
and where you’re going.
Some lives are complicated
because that’s what they require.
Don’t fight the power
with what God puts
in perfect alignment.
Learning the Words
Faith doesn’t arrive fluent.
Sometimes the body learns before the mouth remembers.
This is how practice begins.
“Faith begins where certainty ends.”
Heavy walking.
House shaking.
I’m trying to learn salat,
but the words keep slipping.
Bismillah…
Abu says,
Musawwir
hold your head high.
As Ummi watched from a distance
Kneel down.
Now.
Turn your foot in like this.
Stay right there
until I tell you to move.
Now say these words
after me.
Bismillāhi r-Raḥmāni r-Raḥīm
Astro (Grounding)
Not because I’m lost,
but because my natural state is movement.
“Celestial by design.
Rooted by survival.”
Leo. Aquarius. Pisces.
Which means I’m Aang.
I’ve mastered everything
except grounding.
No earth-bending.
So I float—
looking for foundation.
Not because I’m lost,
but because my natural state
is movement,
perception,
depth—
more than solidity.
Someone to Talk To
I didn’t need answers.
I didn’t need saving.
I just needed someone
who could sit with the weight
without trying to move it.
There are moments when your phone feels heavier than usual.
Not because it’s ringing—but because it isn’t.
No one to call.
No one who would understand the version of you that showed up today.
That’s when I call on God.
Not for answers. Not for escape.
But because silence has a way of telling the truth.
He doesn’t flatter me.
He highlights what’s right and what’s wrong—
the things I’ve done well,
the things I keep pretending weren’t choices.
My sins.
My deeds.
And somewhere in that stillness, I realize something else:
I’m not the only one who needs someone.
Everyone is carrying something unseen.
The mistake is thinking the answer lives outside of us.
We chase conversations, validation, connection—
scrolling, reaching, explaining—
while the signs inside keep flashing the same message:
Empty.
Hopeless.
Maybe rejected.
But the life I’m living,
the choices I’ve made,
didn’t come from their perspective.
They came from mine.
That’s when it settles in.
This isn’t the moment to be understood.
It’s the moment to become responsible.
To sit with myself long enough
to hear what I’ve been avoiding.
If there’s no one to talk to,
this is the time
to let that someone else
be me.