ABOUT THE ARTIST
Faizan Khan is a graduate of Hendrix College, where he studied Chemistry. Faizan came to Becomings through his friend and mentor, Dr. Jay McDaniel. Faizan is currently employed as an engineer in Little Rock, Arkansas, and volunteers for the Madina Institute and Mosque.
Faizan Khan is a graduate of Hendrix College, where he studied Chemistry. Faizan came to Becomings through his friend and mentor, Dr. Jay McDaniel. Faizan is currently employed as an engineer in Little Rock, Arkansas, and volunteers for the Madina Institute and Mosque.
Flight to the Stars
Engines rumbling, roaring with power
The skyship a restless bird
Waiting to be unchained
From the prison of the ground
A restless animal impatient for unleash
Famished, craving for aerial liberty
Then a thunderous rumble
As the great machine
Was fully awakened, determined
To be pushed
To its fullest, monstrous extent
Then began the slow creep upward
That soon became a practiced prance
Then transformed into deafening dash
The bird now fighting
Both the lurching air
And the invisible, seemingly invincible
Shackles of the earth
The grave gravity of the ground
Hugging it ever closer
As if afraid of letting go
But even this tremendous plight
Gave way to the ultimate might
Of the sheer will of the bird
That slowly wrung itself free
Breaking chains that were not chains
No eye could ever see
Faster, better, stronger
Every moment, soaring higher
Invited into the vast
Blueness of the sky
The comforting clouds
Coming closer
The edge of the earth
In clear plain sight
And to see the moon
Once so far to meet
Now ever so soon
Beneath our feet
Our mission now
Impossibly, victoriously
Complete.
The pursuits of our grand vision
The pride of a generation
That restless, real obsession
Brought close all far ambitions
So let giant leaps for mankind
Serve for us to remind
There is
No placid planet
No galactic galaxy
No spectrum of space
No fanciful fantasy
No stinging star
Too far
When we realize we’re made of stars
The same ones we see
That to be Fashioned for struggle
Molded for victory
To be invited to the cosmos
That were shrouded in mystery
And history
Was destiny
So when will we see
That the skies and the sea
In the universe above
Came as clemency?
In Cyclic Perfect Fashion
The day dawned dry
The sky a canvas
And streaks of golden sunrise
Strewn so tastefully across
That then bowed out
As the blue canyon above
Filled with solar might
Like the ultimate clockwork
The Burning Star pulled up high
Searing bright and blazing down
Scorched the earth to dismay
And then an inkling of a wisp
A whisper of a shade
A hint of gray in the light
So Kind was He to invite
The clouds came seemingly
As small tokens of mercy
That slowly blanketed all
Invading fiery reign
And rained gentle and somber
Slow and innocent
Till the Artisan Supreme
Weaved them together
Stitched them mended
Till the skies lied
To the clocks
The day itself
Deceived into darkness
And the skies flashed
In thunderous roar
In climatic, climactic
Titanic war
Till no soul was left unshaken
And no heart was left too fearless
And big egos too were broken
No man without distress
Yet within the fear
A feeling so clear
The scene you saw
No short of awe
Each frozen frame
Of frantic frenzy
Brushed in brilliance
Bound in beauty
But then as if
With change of heart
The storm itself
Fell far apart
The tantrum of the skies
The fury of the heavens
Lead to its own demise
With tales of its succession
For in cyclic perfect fashion
A work of True Perfection
Streaks of golden Sun again
Shone just the way it all began.
The sky a canvas
And streaks of golden sunrise
Strewn so tastefully across
That then bowed out
As the blue canyon above
Filled with solar might
Like the ultimate clockwork
The Burning Star pulled up high
Searing bright and blazing down
Scorched the earth to dismay
And then an inkling of a wisp
A whisper of a shade
A hint of gray in the light
So Kind was He to invite
The clouds came seemingly
As small tokens of mercy
That slowly blanketed all
Invading fiery reign
And rained gentle and somber
Slow and innocent
Till the Artisan Supreme
Weaved them together
Stitched them mended
Till the skies lied
To the clocks
The day itself
Deceived into darkness
And the skies flashed
In thunderous roar
In climatic, climactic
Titanic war
Till no soul was left unshaken
And no heart was left too fearless
And big egos too were broken
No man without distress
Yet within the fear
A feeling so clear
The scene you saw
No short of awe
Each frozen frame
Of frantic frenzy
Brushed in brilliance
Bound in beauty
But then as if
With change of heart
The storm itself
Fell far apart
The tantrum of the skies
The fury of the heavens
Lead to its own demise
With tales of its succession
For in cyclic perfect fashion
A work of True Perfection
Streaks of golden Sun again
Shone just the way it all began.
