The Islamic Bulletin
The Islamic Bulletin
Mr. Abd al-Hayy Moore has two books of poetry published by
City Lights under the name Daniel Moore.
He’s traveled extensively, living in England, Morocco, Algeria,
Nigeria and Spain. Mr. Moore is a talented writer and poet,
and has turned his talents in writing for Islam.
He is a contributor to ‘The Minaret’ and other publications.
His more recent publications are ‘The Chronicles of Akhira’,
‘Halley’s Comet’, and ‘Holograms’.
His writings and publication may be obtained from Zilzal
Press, 126 North Milpas Street, Santa Barbara, CA 93103.
I became a Muslim when it seemed I had already accepted Is-
lam in my bones, as if beyond choice, and I only had to make a
leap to embrace it formally. Outwardly I was content: inwardly
I was coasting. My three-years-old theater company was dis-
banded after a hilariously chaotic production for a Tim Leary
Benefit at the Family Dog in San Francisco, circa ‘68 - naturally
the orange juice everyone had passed around was spiked, so
that chorus members were doing the final scene in the first ten
minutes - and for six months I had been methodically typing
out poetry manuscripts in my attic in Berkeley preparatory to a
big publishing push.
I considered myself a Zen Buddhist. But I was other things as well.
My normal routine was to get up, sit zazen, smoke a joint, do
half an hour of yoga, then read the Mathnawi of Rumi, the long
mystical poem of that great Persian Sufi of the thirteenth century.
Then I met the man who was to be my guide to our teacher
in Morocco, Shaykh Muhammad ibn al-Habib, may Allah be
pleased with him. At first the meeting was simply remarkable,
and my guide was simply a remarkable man. But soon our en-
counter was to become extraordinary, leading to a revolution in
my life from which I have never recovered and never hope to.
The man looked like an eccentric Englishman. He too had only
recently come out of the English version of the Hippie Wave.
He was older, refined in his manners spectacularly witty and
intellectual, but of that kind prevalent then who had hobnobbed
with the Beatles and knew the Tantric Art collection of Brian
Jones firsthand. He had been on all the classic drug quests-pey-
ote in the Yucatan, mescaline with Luara Huxley-but with the
kif quest in Morocco he had stumbled on Islam, and then the
Sufis, and the game was up. A profound change had taken place
in his life that went far beyond the psychedelic experience.
For the three days following our meeting, two other Americans
and I listened in awe as this magnificent story teller unfolded
the picture of Islam, of the perfection of the Prophet Muham-
mad, peace be upon him, of the Sufis of Morocco, and of the
100-year-old plus Shaykh, sitting under a great fig tree in a
garden with his disciples singing praises of Allah. It was every-
thing I’d always dreamed of, it was poetry come alive. It was the
visionary experience made part of daily life, with the Prophet
a perfectly balanced master of wisdom and simplicity, and his-
torically accessible Buddha, with a mixture of the earthiness of
Moses, the other worldliness of Jesus, and a light all his own.
The prophetic knowledge our guide talked about was a kind
of spiritual existentialism. It was a matter of how you enter a
room, which foot you entered with, that you sipped water but
gulped milk, that you said, “Bismillah” (In the name of Allah)
before eating or drinking, and “Al-hamdulillah” (Praise be to
Allah) afterwards, and so on. But rather than seeing this as a
burden of hundreds of “how-to’s,” it was more like what the
LSD experience taught us, that there is a “right” way to do
things that has, if you will, a cosmic resonance. It is a constant
awareness of courtesy to the Creator and His creation that in
itself ensures and almost visionary intensity.
It is hard to put forward any kind of explanation of Islam, to
try and suggest the beauty of its totality, through the medium
of words. The light of Islam, since it is transformational and
alchemical in nature, almost always comes via a human mes-
senger who is a transmitter of the picture by his very being.
Face to face with our guide, what struck us most was his im-
peccable, noble behavior. He seemed to be living what he
was saying. Finally the moment came, as a surprise, when
he confronted me with my life. “Well,” he said one morning
after three full days of rapturous agreement that what he was
bringing us was the best thing we’d ever heard. “What do you
think? Do you want to become a Muslim?”
I hedged, “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard about so far.
After all my Zen Buddhism, all my yoga, Tibetan Buddhism
and Hindu gurus, this is certainly it! But I think I would like
to travel a little, see the world, go to Afghanistan (then unoc-
cupied), maybe meet my Shaykh in a mountain village far off
“That’s not good enough. You have to decide now, yes or no.
If it’s yes, then we start on a great adventure. If it’s no, then
blame no one, I’ve done my duty, I’ll just say goodbye and go
on my way. But you have to decide now. I’ll go downstairs and
read a magazine and wait. Take your time.”
When he had left the room I saw there was no choice. My
whole being had already acquiesced. All my years up to that
moment simply rolled away. I was face-to-face with worship of
Allah, wholly and purely, with the Path before me well-trodden,
heavily signposted, with a guide to a Master plunk in front of
me. Or I could reject all this for a totally self-invented and
It was the day of my birthday, just to make it that much more
I chose Islam.
Zainab (R.A.) was the eldest daughter of the Prophet (PBUH) and
was born in the fifth year of his marriage to Khadijah (R.A.), when
he was thirty years of age.
She embraced Islam and was married to her cousin Abdul-As-bin
Rabi. Her husband fought in ‘Badr’ for the Qureysh and fell a cap-
tive to the Muslims. Her husband also embraced Islam later and
joined her in Madinah.
She had a son named Ali and a daughter named Amamah. Ali died
during the lifetime of the Prophet (S.A.W.). This was the same Ali
who sat behind the Prophet’s camel at the time of his triumphal
entry into Mecca. Amamah frequently hanged on the Prophet’s
back as he prostrated in Salaat (prayer).
When the Qureysh were paying ransom to secure release of their
prisoners, Zainab (R.A.) gave over as ransom for her husband the
necklace she had received in dowry from her mother Khadijah
When the Prophet (S.A.W.) saw the necklace, the memories of
Khadijah came to his mind and tears were in his eyes. After con-
sultation with Sahabah, he returned the necklace to Zainab (R.A.)
and released her husband without ransom on the condition that he
would send Zainab to Madinah on his return to Mecca.
Two men were sent to stay outside Mecca and bring Zainab (R.A.)
safely to Madinah when she was made over to them. Her husband
asked his brother Kananah to take Zainab outside Mecca and make
her over to Muslim escort.
As Zainab and Kananah were riding out of the town on camel’s
back, the Qureysh sent a party to intercept them. Her own cousin
Habar-bin-Aswad flung a spear at her which wounded her and
made her fall from the camel.
As a result of this fall, Zainab, who was pregnant, miscarried. Ka-
nanah started sending arrow towards the interceptors, when Abu
Sufyan said to him: “We cannot tolerate the daughter of Muhammad
leaving Mecca so openly. Let her go back and you can send her
secretly after a few days.” Kananah agreed.
Zainab (R.A.) was dispatched after a few days. She suffered long
from that wound, and at last died of it in the beginning the 8th year
after the emigration of the Prophet (S.A.W.). The Prophet (S.A.W.)
said at the time of her death: “She was my best daughter, for she
has suffered much on my account.”
The Prophet (S.A.W.) buried her with his own hands. As he went
into the grave to lay her down, he looked very sorrowful but, when
he came out of the grave, he was quite composed.
On the query by the Sahabah, he said: “In view of the feebleness of
Zainab, I prayed to The Almighty to remove from her the tortures
of the grave, and this prayer has been answered.”
Just imagine, even the daughter of the Prophet (S.A.W.) who sacri-
ficed her life for Islam needed a prayer from the Prophet in the grave.
What about us people who are so much steeped in sins? It is but
necessary that we should always seek protection from the difficulties
in the grave. The Prophet (S.A.W.) would often seek refuge in God
from the horrors of the grave.
Birth of Prophet Ishaq (pbuh)
The Prophet Ibrahim had two sons - Prophet Ismail and Prophet
Ishaq (peace be upon them). The Prophet Ishaq (pbuh) was his
second son born of Sarah, his wife. When the Prophet Ibrahim
(pbuh) passed through an ordeal of sacrificing his affectionate son,
Prophet Ismail, the glad tidings of the birth of another son, Prophet
Ishaq, was conveyed to him. The Holy Qur’an says:
“And We gave him the good news of Isaac-a prophet,- one of
the righteous.” (Qur’an 37:112)
The Prophet Ibrahim (pbuh) had attained the age of one hundred
years and Sarah was ninety. They had practically lost all hope of
having an issue at this advanced age. When the angel came to
Prophet Ibrahim (pbuh) with the happy news of the birth of a wise
son, his wife laughed and did not believe it. She remarked that
she had passed the age and now it was simply a folly to expect a
child. The Qur’an tells us how this news was imparted to Prophet
Ibrahim and his wife:
“And his wife was standing (there), and she laughed: But when
We gave her glad tidings of Ishaq (Isaac), and after him Yaqub
(Jacob). She said: “Alas for me! Shall I bear a child seeing I am
an old woman and this my husband here is an old man? That
would indeed be a wonderful thing!” They said: “Dost thou
wonder at God’s decree? The grace of God and His blessings
on you, O ye people of the house! For He is indeed worthy of
all praise, full of all glory.” (Qur’an 11:71-73)
The Prophet Ishaq (pbuh) was born as God willed. He was the cho-
sen servant of God and his descendants were men of high spiritual
rank and character. He was inspired to do noble deeds and establish
right worship. He was generous at heart.
Marriage and Death
The Prophet Ishaq (pbuh) was married to Rebecca when he was
forty years old. His wife gave birth to Esau and Ya’qub. When the
Prophet Ishaq (pbuh) grew old he lost his eye-sight. He passed
away at Hebron at the age of 180 years. He was buried beside his
father and mother.