My red guitar

My red guitar
 
Life is a bridge, said Jesus
(per the Sufi tradition).
 
Yes, in the shape of an arch and I’m
coming down the far side of it,
 
no longer able to view my starting point.
Build not a house upon it, advised Jesus.
 
Yes, yes, my Lord.  Though, I am leaving behind
my wonderful progeny, family and friends,
 
a half dozen out-of-print books
nobody much wanted to read, my red guitar,
 
a handful of Baba songs others yet sing,
a blog with a thousand-plus poems.
 
The blog might endure near to forever
or be taken down tomorrow.
 
I don’t know how such things work.
It doesn’t matter (per Jesus and Meher Baba).
 
Whatever God has ordained
is okay by me.  I’ll be gone soon enough
 
and He’ll be the One
Who has to deal with it all.
 
O child of God, nothing much matters
in this fever-pitch dream but waking up from it. 

(photo from a video by Debbie Finch, 2015)

Yardsticks

Yardsticks
 
The Romans crucified Jesus,
hoisting Him up for the crowd  
 
to witness His agony upon the cross.
Meher Baba crucified Himself  
 
through a lifetime of seclusive, silent sacrifice;
each Christ surrendering passionately
 
to a gift and request from God;
each Christ obeying a Presence within,
 
beyond imagination and conception.
We measure ourselves and our world
 
in strictly human terms and thus
our yardsticks become our prison bars,
 
trapping us in the dream from which
we can never quite awaken.
 
O child of God, who do you think you are?
The Truth is within You, but not within your self.   

     

Air upon the reed

Air upon the reed
 
Music is made by force,
controlled and constricted –
 
sticks upon the drumhead,
hammer against the strings,
 
air upon the reed or trumpeted through
the twisted brass; the fleshy larynx.
 
Impermanence is the price we pay
to dance to the music –
 
notes evanescing in mid air
to make room for the ever-returning silence.
   
There is a price for every piper.
It’s the ticket to the carnival.
 
No hellos, pilgrim, without goodbyes.
Sergeant Daily shouted to His men
 
(in a moment of divine clarity)
Do you want to live forever?
 
How about you, o child?
Do you want to live forever?     

    

God woke up

God woke up      

This obsessive quest for Truth –

it’s about a return to unperturbability:
 

the state of God before He woke up.

Ignorance is a danger, a vulnerability;   

like illusion, duplicity; like change.

Truth is sanctuary.  It’s the search for God.
 

It’s a deep remembrance, a coming to grips,  

then coming to a dead halt.
 

It’s about battling the current

to reach that one, unassailable rock –
 

to become God-like – in timeless serenity.

To be God before God woke up.

O child, persevere in this improbable quest,

well aware of your own bone-deep audacity.