I read the silent gestures, finger-tracings
and hear the later, lived-in mandali stories,
so as not to be led astray nor gamble
upon imaginings, vagaries, the ruses of ego.
The wisdom of discernment.
But then the Friend appears
whispering of alternative avenues
tailored to my peculiar journey,
scribbled into the soft fabric of my heart
and 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, 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.