Streets without love
Hold to My damaan, Meher said.
For those times when there’s left
not a shred of anything else within reach;
one last hope to grasp where He dare not refuse;
when you need to unburden your chest
of the weighty function and duty of self;
when you can’t possibly weave your way
any farther through streets without love;
a damaan with which to dry tears,
clean slates, bind wounds;
to yield a small sheer rectangle –
the fluttering flag of surrender.
O child of God, hold to His damaan
until you are ready to unhand everything.
(drawing by Rich Panico)
Climb down
Climb down from the crow’s nest,
its queasy, exaggerated susceptibility
to every roll and sway.
Secure yourself below
the water line, go for broke,
all or nothing, ready to drown.
The head is a precarious perch,
a tiny bucket of fear
with a false perspective.
Climb down
into the heart, fearless heart;
rest in the ship’s deep, hollow, oak-ribbed hold.
O child of God, worry is a lack –
of heart-sense and faith in God.
Love comes first
Love overflowing;
love enough for everyone.
Jesus feeding the multitudes
loaves and fishes.
Love enough for everyone,
plenty left over, and still yet more.
You showed me such a love once.
You filled my basket. Overflowing.
I should have spent the rest of my life
hovering near that deep well undistracted,
plumbing its depths, bringing it to the surface,
ladling it out, breaking and sharing such a love
as You are, as You bring,
as You have given.
Love should come first
–
to become a feeder, a slaker of thirst,
to become an aperture
through which Your light might shine.
O child of God, Meher keeps you
as
near to the wellspring as you can stand.
The truth of illusion
Moths circle the lamp,
hover
and hurtle, attracted to
the flame
but, also driven from the
midst
of their dark
surroundings.
You reach God
when you come to the end
of yourself.
You get wise. It’s the truth of illusion
that shatters, that
jades;
the truth of illusion
that bores, sates,
disheartens, disenchants.
You rush toward God when
God
outshines His
surroundings.
When the dark has gobbled
you up –
bones and blood.
You rush and flail
and hurl yourself toward
the light
when you see there’s
nothing
in the darkness worth
living for.
O child of God, turn from
illusion
toward the way, the truth, the light.
