I have read the gestures, the finger-tracings;
heeded the later, lived-in mandali stories
so as not to be led astray nor gamble
upon imaginings, vagaries, the ruses of ego.
Gone by the book and the left-behind road map.
But when the Friend appears before me
whispering of alternative avenues
tailored to my peculiar journey, an unheralded route
sewed into the soft fabric of my heart
I am made averse to safe-playing;
willing to risk my likely being led astray
to obey words that have touched
neither lips nor page, words never meant
to be taught nor shared, never to reach
the light of reputable wisdom or discernment,
words that appear from nowhere
to rapidly fade into the mystery
from whence they came.
O child of God, Meher advised his lovers
to take risks and make bold experiments.