Al-Andalus Tribune Substack I saw her not with these eyes of clay, But with inner gaze born of love’s own ray. Al-Andalus—shimmering face of the Real, Unfolding where only the heart can kneel. She spoke in symbols, in shadow and flame, Each form a mirror, each name His Name. There, time imploded and veils grew thin— I walked through her…
Read More“Make Iberia Great Again”: An invitation to join our imaginal al-Andalus
