In lieu of silence
In lieu of silence, I
offer this poem.
In lieu of surrender, I
offer this prayer.
Unable with my whole
heart to praise You,
I compose these poems of
praise,
mitigated by inquiry and
complaint;
by words themselves. In lieu of conviction,
I assiduously examine and
guard my faith,
lest a wall should crumble,
a foundation crack.
In my lack of poise,
I lay at Your feet my
desperation
and because my obedience
is so shaky,
I repeat constantly my
repentances
for the breaking of my
high-minded vows.
I can’t live up to Your
measure
but, You are the measure. It is You
for Whom I break my own
silence,
reaching out of my shell
with petitions,
questions, grievances and
grief.
You are the Hub around
which my thoughts,
my being revolve in this
mad, whirling experience
in which I find myself
and hope,
one day, to lose myself
and find You.
O child of God, when a
poem breaks your heart
you know you’ve moved a
smidgen closer to the core.
A shared life
The island of the
zygote
floating minuscule and
fragile;
the fetus in the womb –
so vulnerable, so
vulnerable.
The island in my head –
so insubstantial,
so subjective; me inside
my skin – so mortal;
the island in my chest –
so isolated, so lonely.
White spit of sand in the
middle
of a dark blue sea until
the Ocean Itself
leaves footprints along
the shore.
Accustom yourself, its
pattern reads,
to a shared life. And for years now,
my island fortress has
been shrinking
under the determined
elements of truth –
wild winds, brutal
storms, the heavy seas.
When every place you
trust underfoot is gone;
everything you thought
solid proven flimsy,
the truth will swim into
view –
truth to drown in; truth
vast as the Ocean
encircling your sad and
dwindling little island.
O child of God, everyone
is an island
until reclaimed by the
Ocean of Love.
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.
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.
