The
Origin
When
you turn to face your Beloved,
it
is not to the right or left,
it’s
to the inside or out –
the
Tomb on the Hill
or
the tomb in your chest?
A
pinch of dhuni ash or the burnt remains
of
your smoldering heart?
What
a strange, obsessive adventure!
I
can’t remember when or where it began
or
foresee when or where it will end,
(Has
it been forty years . . .
or
forty thousand years?)
but
I have found the Friend
Who
accompanies me every moment
because
He and I are One and we shall
be
together until my self is no more.
O
child of God, turn towards the Origin
and
away from the Illusion of life and individuality.
There
is no other
Be
wary of these makeshift compositions.
They
are constructed of words
and
thus can never tell the truth.
They
come from a heart (per Meher)
entombed
for ages in the darkness
of
various bodily incarnations,
then
blinded suddenly by His light.
We
are not we but One, declared my Lord.
Not
(apparently) because we are God
but
because only God exists – only the One.
We
are not dreaming a dream.
God
is dreaming His dream
wherein
we are illusory others –
powerless,
dependent, insubstantial.
O
child, there is only God,
only One. There is no other.
