* Al Lateef *

(source)

Can you tell if your heart is gentle or not? Like REALLY GENTLE or not?

One of God’s names is Al Lateef, The Ever-Discreetly Gentle.. I love love love that fact.. It brings out the subtle side of everything & shows it to my heart.. One might ask, If God Himself, with all His Power & Might, Is Gentle, why can’t the rest of us (waaaay weaker) be gentle as well? Well, I think it’s ‘cuz it takes power to be gentle! Yup.. Well, I believe that it’s not as easy as it may seem to be gentle at the heart.. It takes a lotta guidance, power, time, thinking, interacting, seeing, feeling & loving to be gentle..
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Why don’t we work a li’l harder in trying to see God as Gentle as well? I think that too can actually help us in becoming more gentle at heart.. The thing is, you rarely find a mother, teacher, or any other person in charge telling you about this lovely name belonging to Allah! Think brothers & sisters.. Think a li’l harder.. Why would He create those delicate flowers? & why would they tiny li’l things smell so good? And why make tulips so red? Why would He make life from water, while it’s colorless, odorless & tasteless? Why would the air be invisible?

On a blessed-&-a-very-lucky note, I’d like to say that Alhamdullillah I’ve got people with gentle hearts surrounding me, teaching me & guiding me through the rough days & violent nights..

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"I didn't want any flowers, I only wanted

To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.

How free it is, you have no idea how free -

The peacefulness is so big it dazes you,

And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets.

It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them

Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.

~

The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me.

Even through the gift paper I could hear them breathe

Their redness talks to my wound, it corresponds.

They are subtle: they seem to float, though they weigh me down,

Upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their colour,

A dozen red lead sinkers round my neck."

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~ Tulips by Sylvia Plath ~