They call You the Silent Master.
Not one word in forty-four years!
Yet, You spoke to me within my heart.
Now it’s my turn for silence.
Before Your benevolence and generosity,
gratitude is mute, the poverty of language laid bare.
If my silence does not reach Your ears,
look into my eyes:
Read these eloquent tears.
Feel Your lover’s heart tremble where in thrilling
rushes of breath, Your love-secrets are being told.
O child of God, pure gratitude is very near to love
and a necessary step toward complete surrender.
(from The Garden of Surrender, 2004)
No comments:
Post a Comment