
But because of his great respect for the older ustadh, he proceeded to try to unfold the rose, while keeping every petal intact... It wasn't long before he realized how impossible this was to do. Noticing the younger ustadh's inability to unfold the rosebud without tearing it, the older ustadh began to recite the following poem...
It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of Allah's design,
But I cannot unfold the petals,
With these clumsy hands of mine.
But I cannot unfold the petals,
With these clumsy hands of mine.
The secret of unfolding flowers,
Is not known to such as I,
ALLAH opens this flower so sweetly,
Then in my hands they die.
Is not known to such as I,
ALLAH opens this flower so sweetly,
Then in my hands they die.
If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of Allah's design,
Then how can I have the wisdom,
To unfold this life of mine?
So I'll trust in Allah for leading,
Each moment of my day,
I will look to Allah for His guidance,
Each step of the way.
Each moment of my day,
I will look to Allah for His guidance,
Each step of the way.
The pathway that lies before me,
Only Allah knows,
I'll trust Him to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose.
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