After every good deed, He’s right there… Unseen but at ur side ready and ever present. The whisperer… I’m told there’s nothing worse then the show off. The muraa’ii… His deeds aren’t to cleanse his own heart. They’re meant to be a robe. Worn for the attention and admiration of other men. These things we’re told to do aren’t for the people we do them for… Not really. There for us. Giving to others what ur soul lives to hold on to. Al waswaas… Or the whisper says ” if u must give then also recieve. let the people know that u are a giver. Let them know u are as God himself is… Generous! “. Here lies the trap. Ur told, hide ur deeds if it’s possible. Both the good and bad. If u have shame, u will keep ur faults hidden and not broadcast ur wrong doing amongst others as the arrogant do. Finding pride in thier faults, and spreading the now popular belief that we’re all perfect just the way we are with no need to righten or rectify ourselves or our hang ups. To do right, and then tell the world of ur generosity seeking recognition from other people strips u of the whole point of why u were told to practice being upright. U give to purify urself of the stingyness and greed that can be found in all of us. To abolish the false worship of “things” within u, believing that the real, yet unseen God’s pleasure is upon u for sacrificing in his remembrance that which u covet. The want for Attention. Recognition, aknowlegement etc for the things we do are the hands that wipe away every true blessing that comes from what weve done. Sincerity is found in ur silence. If u believe God is the All knower… Then believe me, what uve done is known, as is ur intent behind ur act. And if it’s done for him alone, then like the gift of Abel it will be accepted and u will be raised in honor, though the world and all who live here never knew a thing about it. Peace

Published by Pack Redfeather

I am a walking contradiction of traditions some say. An African American and Native American Muslim poet with a personal life history as violently turbulent as a Storm. A visionary from the bottom of life’s social barrel striving to share the hope found in the light of faith through sometimes dark but real poetry. I’m a former member of the Bloods street gang, former serial bank robber, and both federal/state prison convict. I live on my mother’s tribal reservation of the Leech Lake band of Ojibwe in Minnesota.

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