Saturday, October 4, 2025

Head over heels

Head over heels                                                                               
 
To indicate the effect breaking His silence
would have upon the world,
 
Meher Baba once cupped His hands
to form a globe and then, deftly, flipped it over.
 
Why shouldn’t I believe Him?
Secure within the predictable
 
and familiar orbits and juxtapositions
of various touchstones and landmarks,
 
well-accustomed to the daunting pattern
of stars spinning above my head,
 
the dependable earth beneath my feet,
my Lord, mercifully, upended my world,
 
set me upon a path through foreign territory –
everything new, strange and oddly out of whack.
 
Even today, years later, whenever I come close
to regaining my equilibrium, re-acquiring my bearings,
 
with a swift sweep of His hand, He clears the playing board.
He once formed a globe with His hands and then, flipped it.
 
Upside down, someone said, interpreting the gesture.
No, He wryly corrected.  Right side up!
 
O child of God, celebrate the moment you fell
head over heels in love with your Beloved.




Wednesday, October 1, 2025

Where do I go?

Where do I go?                                                                                 
 
Where do I go to get my innocence back?
O fresh-cheeked, joyous, clear-eyed boy!
 
Shall I break the news to you? 
I sold you out – ages ago, for shining trifles. 
 
Innocence strewn and squandered,
compliance wheedled and coaxed –
 
secret indulgences, anonymous compromises,
a whisper and a hope . . . and all for love;
 
all for love but I lacked the courage.
Beaten up, pasted over, trampled under,
 
I betrayed you and failed you and here you are again,
o innocent one, forgiving me, begging me to come clean.
 
I have no promises to make. It will take courage;
all the courage I never had –
 
the countless moments of truth
that came and went and found me wanting.
 
Where do I go to find that courage?
To get my innocence back? 
 
Here, said my Beloved. 
Come here.  Come to Me.
 
O child of God, your pretenses worn threadbare,
let your humble, homely truth shine through.