Sunday, May 20, 2012

Cabbage leaves

Cabbage leaves                                                                             

Under a cabbage leaf, Father said
and the son believed him. 

He loves me too much,
the child reasoned, to tell a lie –

rousing the wonder of a rimy, autumn garden,
naked infant curled among the stalks and stems.

Thumbing now through God Speaks
and other unspoken words You left behind,

I wonder how many cabbage leaves
are enfolded among the bright pages.

Not that it matters.
It was never about hard facts with You,

but the gentle whisperings and gestures
of a son’s trust in his father, a father’s love for his son.

Inscrutable tales that quench,
yet prod and fire the groping soul

towards the coming of age,
when mind and tongue shall be stilled –

when Truth shall thoroughly own the man
and the child shall be no more.

O child of God, trust in the love of Meher
where all contradictions are reconciled.


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