WE’VE COME AT the tail end of the tropical monsoon season. Yes, it’s swelteringly hot with thunderstorms, but it is this very rain and heat that has transformed the land into stunning green. Every shade you can think of and more.
وَمَا ذَرَأَ لَكُمْ فِى ٱلْأَرْضِ مُخْتَلِفًا أَلْوَٰنُهُۥٓ ۗ إِنَّ فِى ذَٰلِكَ لَـَٔايَةًۭ لِّقَوْمٍۢ يَذَّكَّرُونَ
And whatever He has created on earth for you of varying colours. Surely, in this is a sign for those who are mindful. (an-Nahl 13)
Imagine a world with no colour, no hue,
Where dawn breaks in greys, not in gold or blue.
Where flowers bloom silent, their petals all pale,
And seasons pass by with no story to tell.
No blush of the rose, no emerald leaf,
No saffron sunrise, vivid yet brief.
No shimmer of dew on a lilac or lime—
Just echoes in monochrome, faded by time.
But He, Al-Khāliq, whose mercy is wide,
Painted the world with a Master’s pride.
With strokes unseen by any hand,
He brushed the oceans, skies, and land.
وَمَا ذَرَأَ لَكُمْ فِى ٱلْأَرْضِ مُخْتَلِفًا أَلْوَٰنُهُۥٓ
“And whatever He has created for you on earth of varying colours…” (an-Nahl 13)
The blue of the endless skies,
The indigo veil where the twilight lies.
The ruby and gold of autumn’s flame—
Each leaf a whisper of Allah’s Name.
The colours that dance as peacocks preen,
In glistening greens and gems unseen.
The fish that shimmer in ocean’s deep,
And flowers that call to the buzzing bee.
But more than hues that dazzle the eye
Are signs of Wisdom we can’t deny.
From UV trails for the insect’s flight,
To shrimp who sees twelve shades of light.
How many ayat we fail to see,
Blinded by noise and screens’ decree.
When beauty surrounds us at every turn,
Yet hearts grow numb, and souls unlearn.
وَكَأَيِّن مِّنْ ءَايَةٍ۬ فِى ٱلسَّمَـٰوَٰتِ وَٱلْأَرْضِ
يَمُرُّونَ عَلَيْهَا وَهُمْ عَنْهَا مُعْرِضُونَ
“And how many a sign in the heavens and the earth do they pass by, while they turn away from them?”(Yūsuf 105)
But for those who pause—who truly see—
Each colour hums: Subḥānaka, Yā Rabbee!
Alhamdulillāh for the gift of sight,
For the soul’s own lens that sees the Light.
For signs that whisper, bold or mild:
“Remember your Lord,” in every wild.
So look again—not just with eyes—
But hearts that read what underlies.
For every shade, each hue, each tone,
Is an āyah calling: You’re never alone.
