And when am I ready? four months from now.
What if I speed myself faster somehow?
If you go twice as fast, eight months I’m sure.
Best you escape speed’s most dangerous lure.
How is it then that when I am going faster
I’m slower, living more heart’s disaster?
That when you have one eye fixed on the goal
Only one’s on path to skirt ev’ry hole
So when do I arrive to me, my heart?
And cut away ev’ry odious part?
When you no longer ask, when you don’t care.
And don’t bother friends, shy to be unfair.
When there is no goal except straight to Him
But without halting your feet, diminishing vim
For reliance, dejection, loss of the world
Does not mean that hope too far has been hurled
Buried out of sight for angels to see
The seed of what’s written for you and for me
Bloom each, enchanting, if patience invested
‘gainst soul and self, maturing contested
Rasullah (s) said “Consideration is from God, and haste is from the devil.” [Al-Bayhaqi]