You can do it, they said
I don’t know, I said
I knew it would be hard
Far-fetched, I said.
But it tugged on my heart
Wouldn’t leave my mind
It enclosed my vision
Like gold silk so fine
I longed to be one of them
So few yet so many
Like scattered pearls in the desert
Found only by so many
‘Strange folk!’ they said
‘Tooba’, I said
‘They’re so few!’ they said
The righteous are few, I said
I found them awake
In the depths of the night
I saw them weep
I saw them fight
They spoke very little
Yet their wisdom was sought
Like ‘Abbad ibn Bishr
With light did they walk
They inspired me then
They inspire me now
Forgive me Ya Rabb
To You I bow
My vision shifts fast
To gaze at rewards so surreal
I pick the Book up with my right
Her recitation she begins
I wanted not much
From this hayat al-hazeen
But to gain the Pleasure of al-Mannaan
And to soar with the Muttaqeen
I can do it, I said
We don’t know, they said
I’ll aim high, I said
Turn the page, she said.

Aim high brothers and sisters — aim for al-Firdaws al-A’laa. Nothing stopped the righteous from ascending in rank. They fixed their focus and engraved their goals — not stopping except to purify their intentions and seek forgiveness. They knew no boundaries except the boundaries of Allaah and they knew that the sky was never the limit.

[The poem has a story behind it which is personal to me, so don't worry if it's not all too clear!]

Written by a sister in the Islaam [may Allah reward her]