The true lover, Baba said, seals his lips
as I’m tending to do these days
not from fiery longing (alas) but from the fear
that someone overhearing might want me
fitted for a jacket with very long sleeves.
I was a reasonable fellow once
who has turned irrational, making everyone nervous.
I’m nervous, too, and weary, trying to wedge
the pieces of my crumbling world back
into some semblance of order. It’s frightening.
With a certain thrill to it, also. A strange, secret freedom.
I sound out my friends with my newfound wisdom.
They are embarrassed for me, nodding politely,
shying away. I get the idea that once
they turn the corner they break into a run. No matter.
One of the earth-shattering truths (or self-delusions)
which has come to me of late is that there is only myself
and my Revealer. I answer to no one else.
O child of God, get wisdom from others only
by observing your reactions to their words and behavior.