It doesn’t take much to
become dust.
I mean, it’s not like you
start out a hero.
You have not to yield
anything of real value.
Not a sacrifice really but
the overseeing of a collapse.
It takes obstinacy, mind you,
an obsessive vigilance;
persistence through constant
failure;
a disheartening familiarity
with your own depthless
inadequacy;
faith in the remote promise
of a distant victory
constructed upon utter
defeat.
But what else is there to do
when your Beloved
rouses in you the first
inchoate stirrings of humility?
When He speaks of love and
you discover your poverty,
your heart aloof and
non-comprehending?
What else to do with the
shame from a lifetime
of duplicity, mistrust and a
dearth of pity?
What else to do when your
effort might bring
a brief smile, a nod of the
head from your Lord
while you both wait for the
one miracle
He promised He has come to
perform?
O child of God, what else on
God’s green earth
has more value than the dust
gathered at Meher’s feet?
No comments:
Post a Comment