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,

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.

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.