Like dust and ash
O to become a grain of dust
which bears no guilt or shame;
no vows to break, nor strategies to fail,
no decisions to make nor burdens to shoulder;
no crumbling castles; no fire, nor blood
among the lowly and least significant.
But I’m hung up in the in-between,
a tethered man stuffed with straw,
praying for Meher’s glance
to set me aflame. If
I can’t be dust,
perhaps a speck of dhuni ash floating gently
upward on the Meherabad breeze.
O child of God, desire to be,
like dust and ash, free from all desire.
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