Such is my destiny

Such is my destiny
 
Up on the Hill, Meher offered me
a cup of wine.  I politely declined, 

then sat down to soberly write a poem
about intoxication.  Such is my destiny. 
  
All the while, I was thinking the center
of the universe was eight thousand miles away –
 
enamored of myself, my pleasure, comforts,
my conformity, rather than any nearby Beloved.
 
Back home, trudging through my old routines,
sobered by fear, uncertainty, impermanence. 
 
Now that the darkness has begun to lift a bit,
the dream is fading.  I don’t mind so much. 
 
I’m bone-tired, looking forward to a reset
and somewhere far away, or perhaps,
 
just at my elbow, a new invitation
to partake of His holy, liberating wine. 
 
O child, your liberation is per Meher’s schedule.
Rue and regret are but an impotent indulgence.