Twelve Coats danced for joy
when he stood before his
Beloved
yet he would not remove his
coats.
Threadbare and ragged, odious
with filth,
he had not the faith to part
with
that which routinely embraced
him,
sheltered and insulated him
from the world.
Baba’s Presence enlivened the
old man
but not enough to let him
slip out from under
a lifetime of accumulated concealment
and buffer,
shed his superstitions (with their
dubious protection)
and grant him the courage to
dance naked before his Lord.
O child of God, you know
almost nothing about Barakoti;
maybe just enough to use him
innocuously as a metaphor.
No comments:
Post a Comment