Salam at 4:44 AM - From a soul crying out to the Children of Gaza.

My Woodcut print was done in Green Bay, Wisconsin. The center was designed by Fadzly Mubin, in Kuala Terengganu.
 

Salam at 4:44 AM

At 4:44 AM, the world rests in silence. The air is cool, the stillness almost sacred, and the heart finds space to breathe. It feels like a hidden doorway in time — a moment where the soul can quietly bow in remembrance of the One who gives and takes all things.

Earlier, I woke up and sat on my bed for nearly an hour, palms placed gently upon chest and abdomen, reciting verses of protection and remembrance: Al-Fatiha, Surah Al-Ikhlas, Surah An-Nas, Surah Al-Falaq, Ayat al-Kursi, the Selawat upon the Prophet ﷺ, and other short invocations. My doa flowed for forgiveness and protection, invoking the beautiful Names of Allah. Outside, rain fell steadily, not quite a storm but heavy enough to fill the air with its rhythm, while thunder rolled distantly over the sea. It was as though the heavens themselves kept me company, their voice echoing softly through the early dawn.

Afterwards, I performed my ablution — wudhu — before stepping into the kitchen. There, I prepared my simple healing drink: a splash of honey, a teaspoonful of apple cider vinegar, and a dash of olive oil in lukewarm water. Alongside it, I enjoyed a handful of walnuts and raisins from a bottle of Turkish mixed nuts my daughter had brought home for me. There you have it — my small ritual before writing. It takes time, but perhaps that is the point: to begin slowly, to prepare body and soul before putting words into the world.

The numbers themselves — 444 — often draw attention. Many traditions see repeating numbers as reminders, signs that there is order and guidance beyond what we see. Some interpret 444 as a symbol of protection, angelic presence, or alignment between body, mind, and spirit. For me, it felt like a gentle nudge to be awake — not just in body, but in heart.

This morning ritual, I dedicate to the people of Palestine — especially the children of Gaza. May Allah’s mercy cover them, and may their suffering not be in vain.

“Allah does not burden a soul beyond that it can bear…” (Surah Al-Baqarah 2:286)

So here I am, awake at 4:44, whispering a salam into the dark. May this greeting ripple out to whoever needs it, carrying a little light into their dawn.

#Salam #444 #SpiritualReflections #MorningRitual #Dhikr #Doa #HealingJourney #Palestine #ChildrenOfGaza #Peace #LightInTheDark