Heart of mine

Heart of mine  

Heart of mine, be a dark rose

pleasing in scent and shade;

an anchor around which

my puttering boat circles;

a house left to seed, wisteria

growing through every crack;

the fruit of a cactus,

a beast of burden, caked with sweat and dust;

a banked fire under soil and snow,

a valley floor below the mountain ridges;

heart of mine, become a flame 

to devour this crumbling dream of self.

O child of God, you belong to the Beloved,

Who will shape your heart as He pleases.

                        (from A Jewel in the Dust)

Garment of leaves

Garment of leaves                                                                    

Heart like an apple core –

that’s where the seeds are. 

People take you for a lunatic

but it’s just the inner thunder

giving you that far away look,

(as Adam must have looked,

gazing back across the garden pale),

impeding nimble strides and coherent speech.

What’s a man’s gait anyway,  

but a limping away from his destiny?

Or smooth talk if his seeds are stone?

The crooked path he follows

can only lead back to where he began –

the garden in the chest.    

It’s all there in the core – root, leaf, bark, fruit;

soil, water, sky.  Time makes us think

the apple in our hand is ripe and ready

to sink our teeth into.

O child of God, shed that garment of leaves.

Venture naked into the new world.

                           (from A Jewel in the Dust)

‘Til spring                                                                                        

I thought wine was the gift, so I complained

when the intoxication wore off.

Now I find seedlings of Your mercy

scattered everywhere –

roses along the spine, their scent,

years later, reaching my nostrils

and the still, quiet pool beneath my ribs,

the grassy meadows, the web of rills.

I’d packed for a long journey.  You motioned

for me to set down my bags

and share one last cup. 

Becoming inconsolable, drunk and unruly,

the taxi left without me.

You led me back inside.

There’s a garden in my chest

and You’ve invited me to stick around ‘til spring.

O child of God, whatever the Beloved has planned for you,

be sure it’s nothing like what you imagine.

                           (from A Jewel in the Dust)

Darkness gathers

Darkness gathers                                                                      

I used to panic not feeling Your touch,

but now I know – You’re only adjusting Your grip.

You have Your hand on me! 

That’s the rare kernel of this odd, random life;

my comfort in this dreamscape

of impairment, bewilderment and fear.

I’ve gladly forked over all my cash.

The truth will come out in the end.

Someone will be by to collect my ticket.

I’ll give him the one You purchased.

Authorities will ask for my papers.

We’ll find out who I really am.

Darkness gathers as the train hurtles

toward the outer provinces;

the cold sharpens; tongues become stranger

and more raucous.

I panic when I get the notion I’m a lone traveler.

I don’t know where I’m going!  But Your valise is by the window.

Your scent lingers in the narrow compartment.

You’ve just stepped out for a bit of air.

O child of God, you want freedom from pain.

Love is an acid that dissolves everything you hold dear.

                         (from A Jewel in the Dust)                                      

Unhand the world

Unhand the world                                                                                              

Unhand the world and ignorance embrace. 

Humility, it seems, stems from non-attachment.

Mind must be discarded

to enter the Tomb-shrine,

like sandals left outside the door.

Feet bare, the world unhanded,

the mind shrouded in ignorance,

naked of any defense until one becomes,

so They say, seamlessly forever non-attached.

Ignorance embraced by faith,

nurtured and established until it becomes,

by grace, whatever True Knowledge is.

O child of God, Meher said, love Me;

do not try to understand Me.

Ignorance personified

Ignorance personified    

I’m ignorant now, but one day I may realize

the one knowable, liberating truth -

that there is nothing to know.  

I know nothing and never will.

What I think of as a reservoir of knowledge

is an empty bucket with a hole in the bottom,

each one of us a singular, oblivious

personification of ignorance and yet

we are dissuaded not by that truth in the least

from the advocacy of our version of truth

as incessantly we opine, pontificate, persuade,

berate, promote, coerce, argue and accuse.

Maybe that’s why Meher kept silent,

telling the whole of humanity

to hold our ignorant tongues,

for God’s sake; be mute

long enough to listen, perceive,

intuit, realize and become.

O child of God, things that are real, said Meher,

are given and received in silence.

Vainglory

Vainglory                                                                                                    

Unable to grasp the Truth, our tiny selves resort

to the vainglory of our most mesmeric imaginings.

The stronger our opinions and beliefs,

the tighter we are bound to illusion,

the farther have we strayed from surrender.

Every cherished notion, our most lofty ideals

must be relinquished as all

equally vain, ignorant, self-serving,

temporal and illusory in order to move

toward the non-attachment that is Oneness. 

O child of God, Meher said I am nothing

but a living lie of the truth that is Me.