Content with God

Content with God                                                                                    

God bless the lover who takes

his Beloved for granted;

who no longer seeks because he has found

and once found never again reaches

for that which is always at his fingertips.

Who finds God beside him everywhere –

no more probing, testing out of fear

the false comforts of understanding –

knowledge instead of faith;

some cheap assurance rather than submission.

God bless the lover who shares his path

all along, every moment,

content with God as Companion

not as the Goal of the New Life road,

who is as disinterested in immediate liberation

as he is in his inevitable destiny.

O child of God, the journey is Baba’s business;

your business is to be with Him every moment of that journey.

My sons

My sons                                                                                                     

I glimpsed my sons as fellow sojourners –

souls at least as old and equal to mine

whose karma my blood and house has taken,

a compassion deeper flowering in me

than paternal love; a timeless empathy;

reverence; camaraderie –

a much needed shift in perspective.

Not my sons at all, but His lovers,

not those young-bodied men but ancient souls

with their own evolving karma,

their own ageless relationship with Him.

I can’t protect them; never could,

nor guide them along their own inimitable way. 

Can’t aid them any more than they can aid me

upon our mutual souls’ journey.

We are and always have been

in the hands of God – His sons,

my brothers, too, of the one true Father.

O child of God, Meher emphasized the connection –

we are not we but one.

The shelter

The shelter                                                                                                         

There’s a shelter, rain on the roof,

wind in the trees the only sounds.

And your own breath.

Let the storm outside rage.

Hard to find and keep, this shelter –

a hidden niche in a valley

deep with loneliness, habit and fear;

false assurances, reckless promises;

the urge for artificial light.

In this shelter the new life begins,

a different journey – the outward,

the known discarded – trusting someOne,

someThing other than yourself,

shrugging off the weight of the world

and reaching out a hand

to be led wherever truth may take you.

A small room where you trust

because you no longer care

and give yourself over to the steadfast shelter

of the only permanence you have ever met.

O child of God, Meher Baba said,

take your stand on the truth within.