Beads on one string
Abstaining from
honey and roots,
leather and silk but, that’s not it;
five times prayer,
the pilgrimage,
no, no. Not the bread and wine
nor a grain of rice
per day;
not a mustard seed;
not mortification;
not abstinence; not
indivisibility
nor devas and
demigods, that’s not it;
not brotherly love
nor pacifism,
not the Trinity nor
the One; not faith, hope, charity;
not servitude nor mastery, not that, not that;
not the ark, the
grail, the ka’aba, the holy texts,
not the Silence nor
the Word,
not practices nor
disciplines,
ceremonies nor
performances, no, that’s not it.
It’s not, it’s
not.
God can reach
around any corner, at any time,
and pull from the
rubble a lover, a seeker, a saint.
At some juncture,
to adhere is to fall away; to follow
is to fall behind –
the path requiring, at times,
abandonment of the
path, faith – the leaving of the fold
and fidelity – the
incoherent ravings of an infidel.
O child of God, put
your faith in perplexity;
find God by
renouncing everything you know.
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