Communicating With The Body—let God Manages My Fortunes Poem by Ayatullah Nurjati

After Ashar Prayer knitting Twilight, as the light drizzle hit the body that had begun to wobble. Everything I do in the name of service and service because that's all I can do. There are so many passengers on the Train at Mass Rapid Transit. This body seemed to be salty and a little torn apart accompanied by my wife who was willing and sincere to take me to my idol's station, Tanah Abang Station. Currently this mode of transportation is very sophisticated and is the idol of every human being, including myself.

I am also surprised that after teaching I will not be feeling tired when I have to deal with my patients. Sometimes before they call it's obvious that I feel a strange feeling similar to the patients I have to hold onto either today or the day after tomorrow.

Every inch of the body must be smeared with rubbing oil—the bumps ran aground as my hands did the same thing my father and mother did when they entered their bodies, the veins and bones were traced and sometimes the shape of their bodies could not be ascertained because they were basically human bodies. always different. It is not a measure of the patient's tariff problem from the level of their body, but the sincerity to give.