The Grand Illusion

The Grand Illusion
 
Existence, the Mystics suggest,
is like a motion picture. 
 
Become quiescent and watch
the scenes play out, the plotlines unfold. 
 
Become a bit player
and an audience member at the same time.
 
Accept the unfolding script
as being written by Another,
 
your reactive involvement
involuntarily abetting the Grand Illusion.
 
Do your best (as Meher suggests)
at your God-given tasks and leave Him the rest.
 
O child of God, share your thoughts
but do not overstep your bounds.           

   

Just because

Just because
 
There is just one because.
For everything, for anything.
 
Just one because. We blame fate,
circumstances, ourselves and others,
 
the Devil himself for our misfortunes,
our failures, tragedies and heartaches,
 
but there’s just one because.
For everything, for anything.
 
Such is our dilemma, o lovers!
To love God just because God is God;
 
just because that is the way
His game is played
 
and there is no other. 
So pluck up your courage, o lovers!
 
Face your Creator in all His fearsome aspects
and yourself in all your human frailties 
 
and pray to love Him selflessly, unconditionally –
(the one definitive attribute of true love).
 
O child, God is love (per Meher) and love is God. 
Love God and become God.      

                     

His silence

His silence
 
I’m alone most of these days
with various entertainments handy
 
to keep life’s underlying silence
from seeping in – His silence –
 
a mystery which I am loath to explore,    
it being too lonely and daunting,  
 
too much like nothingness and death
for my frantic mind to contemplate.
 
Is my life so shallow, Lord, that its only charm
is in its excitations and adventures
 
with nothing substantial underneath?
Does its ephemerality render it trivial? 
 
My Lord grants me a gestured reply, 
inviting me to meet Him there –
 
on the edge of the great mystery; to partake
of its silence; to explore its nothingness.
 
I, in turn, recite timidly that old hymn’s refrain –
Lord, take my hand and lead me home.
 
O child of God, it is your mind that is troubled.
Employ only the heart to obey the Silent One.   

A slow roast

A slow roast

I’m in a holding pattern,

awaiting further instructions.

I have rummaged my way   

through this world’s various offerings

and what once engaged me

is now but a shadow play,

a Punch and Judy show

before an unruly crowd.

This spiritual longing is a slow roast

and it’s no fun – all my worldly desires

 

condensed into and focused upon the One,

His Presence ever near,

His sharp flame gathered at the point

like the head of a spear.

O child of God, no need to flee the world –

let the world flee from you.