His majesty

His majesty

Once an infidel, Your love evoked fidelity,
faithful now, not to God, but to a human being
 
Who walked the path Jesus walked,
          all the way to Golgotha.
But more intimate than that --
 
faithful to the One Who poured the wine
          into my cup;
Who rested His hand on my shoulder;
 
Who gestured tenderly, “You belong to Me.”
I can’t reach beyond that form and personality.
 
It’s self-serving and calculated -- I want to be You;
filled with Your Essence until nothing else remains.
 
O child of God, the Avatar is made of flesh and blood;
therein lies His majesty.

The dark-red goblet

The dark-red goblet
 
This morning the wells at Meherabad overflowed,
threatening to drown all inhabitants.
 
My little boat was swamped by a great wave.
Can my heartsong be heard above the ocean’s roar?
 
When the truth of His rain reaches our ears,
we’ll be drenched, o pilgrims, inside and out.
 
The Beloved is pouring His wine!
Offer the dark-red goblet of your heart.
 
Nothing to cling to; nowhere to go
but down into the vasty blue depths.
 
O child of God, drown in the Ocean of Love,
leaving not a trace of yourself on this rugged, illusory shore.

Love tokens

Love Tokens

O child of God, your heart is a flower,
sometimes open, sometimes not.

Once again, the Sun walked the earth,
mankind ignoring the Light in its midst.

In twilight now, the stars peek out
and a moon of purest silver.

Sing, o nightingale, for me.  I've lost my voice.
The Rose is silent, also, for reasons of Its own.

How could I have known, o Beloved, Your language?
Or what love tokens You would accept.

I was a stranger in Your court.
You threw open the doors of Your treasure house.

Eventually, this old heart will collapse upon itself.
In the ruins, someOne may build a fire.

O child of God, burnt by desire for union;
rejoice the day you come home - your whole house in flames!

Your wine has the power

Your wine has the power
 
Your wine has the power to obliterate my world.
Yet subtle and delicious is Your wine.
 
Tonight, my chest is soaked red from the heart’s goblet
that tilts and spills whenever You draw near.
 
Have You come in response to my morning prayers?
Or to my wailing and weeping in middle of the night?
 
Or have You come of Your own accord,
to work with the clay You find?
 
It doesn’t matter.  You’re here now.
Take liberties with me while I’m drunk and helpless.
 
Fashion me into a deeper vessel, o Lord,
then fill my throat with Your wine until I drown.
 
Let me go out of this world oblivious to everything
but Your stranglehold, Your blade lodged between my ribs.
 
Fear not, child of God, once True Love comes to the door
obliteration is the only possible result.