This New
Life
Near the
charred ruins of who I was –
I
discover Your sandal prints.
Have you
come to lead me out, o Beloved,
or deeper into desolation?
I no
longer care. Just don’t let go of my
hand.
Landmarks
reduced to indecipherable cinders,
but overhead, the sunset bears Your
lovely colors.
A glass
of wine would save me now.
My
wailing begins to resemble a hymn.
You
appear in a radiant white gown.
‘This
field is right for the sowing’, You whisper.
O child
of God, the New Life comes from the spent folly
and
bitter rends of this mad, ravished world.
Sink
or swim
Jesus
walked on the water, bearing love
light
as the froth sans the burden of fear.
Peter
followed, his faith in the authority
of
that love keeping him afloat briefly,
before
fear and doubt pulled him under.
Could
Peter have summoned a greater faith
to
follow anywhere the footsteps of Jesus?
Or
was he doomed to failure?
In
the realm of conjecture,
both
extremes seem possible.
In
the unfolding of God’s Whim
only
one outcome could ever exist.
The
illusion of duality, by polarizing
Oneness,
keeps us from the certainty of fate.
O
child of God, it’s either sink or swim.
You won’t know until the
moment arrives.
You
alone exist
How
should we treat others?
a
devotee asked Ramana Maharshi.
There
are no others, he replied
and
I take his word for it,
though
I don’t see how it could be so.
Either
I am alone in a universe
of
illusory others
or
I am also every other.
Or
I do not exist at all.
Or,
perhaps, all three options are true.
Realization
it seems,
is
not only when I lose my self
and
find that God alone exists
but
also when I lose
all
conception of other
and
find that I alone exist.
O
child, routinely you twist yourself into knots
trying to satisfy an
unrequited mind.
Spoon-fed
Mostly
alone these days
but
I don’t feel lonely.
The
Friend is at my elbow,
peering
over my shoulder.
My
Companion, my Sole Provider,
He
sees to my needs.
Everything
that comes to me,
comes
through Him.
It’s
all medicine – sometimes bitter,
sometimes
sweet; intoxicating
or
brutally sobering.
Spoon-fed
as if to a toddler.
O
child of God, Baba said, ‘to know Me
as I really am, become
a child at heart’.
