Saturday, May 16, 2015

Streets without love

Streets without love                                                                                  

Hold to My damaan, Meher said;
for those times when there’s left

not a shred of anything else within reach;
a damaan of straw, one last hope to grasp

where He dare not refuse;
when you need to

unburden your chest of the weighty
function and duty of self;

when you can’t possibly weave your way
alone any farther through streets without love;

a damaan with which to dry tears,
clean slates, bind wounds;

to yield a small sheer rectangle –
the fluttering white flag of surrender.

O child of God, hold to His damaan
until you are ready to unhand everything.

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