Knowing Him not
His crucifixion portends our own;
His perfection, the beams
to which we are nailed - the intuitive judgment
we are unable to wash our hands of,
the cup of gall perfectly balanced
against the holy grail.
For ages we have pretended
we are not living
at cross-purposes, justifying our denials
in the half-light knowing Him not.
We glide along horizontal for a spell
upon this great convexity
until a crisis uprights us and we are scorned,
racked, nailed, pierced and tortured
by the obvious, unobfuscated truth
of Jesus, human perfection, purity and love.
O child of God, your Lord said: I was this one,
I was that one and now I am Meher Baba.