Dear Beloved ﷺ,
As a little girl I dreamt of you. I didn’t see your marvellous face, but I touched your blessed feet. I had been looking for you in the dead of the night, looking for your resting place where you pray alive and well. Just as I had finally found you and was dusting the sand off your blessed feet, I woke up back into slumber – into a world where I wasn’t unearthing graves looking for you, your footstep, your legacy and your arc.
Tonight i found your footsteps etched in the sand so I put my toes against the marks and started walking behind you, walking with you, after all, time is the only space between us. On this long walk i grew tired, but more hopeful as i begin to feel that what’s before me may be a shorter distance than what’s behind me. Until a familiar path strikes me as being the beginning. But I walk on, vigilantly digging my feet into your footsteps, to be sure that this time I don’t lose my way. And then again I am back on a familiar path, where the beginning not the end is on the horizon. So I pause and wonder if I’ve been misled, chasing away my demons, the sophists who speak of false prophets. Why have I been going in circles? Oh beloved is it you? Is this your path or are those my own footsteps in the sand? We ask for guidance to the straight path and here i stand circling around myself and my doubts… so i start running, still in your footsteps or mine, it’s the path of least resistance… and again, but now faster I’m back to the beginning, though the beginning is seeming further along. Then i look up to the sky, take a deep breathe, and suddenly gasp. This is not a circle, it’s a path, to the locus, the centre. The One.
Your way is the motion to the One. The golden ratio. The logarithmic spiral.
Your way is inscribed all over nature, on the trees, the galaxies, in a shell on a shore, and at the tip of a 5-foot fern! The cosmos sings your praise!
Thank you for revealing so many secrets to me, and mankind.
With all my love
crowned in yours,