Become the sought

Become the sought                                                                                               

Fool that I am, I have searched for You all these years –

the One Who is everywhere and in everything.

I’m not sure of what I’m seeking

but You’ve given it a name:  Meher Baba.  

I suppose I’m nearer the goal after all this time.

I’ve no way to gauge the distance.

You didn’t come to teach

and I’ve learned nothing of consequence.

Either I am You or Your creature

or somehow both and I’ll end up with You

some lifetime or another – or not.

You might never be mine

but just the same I belong to You.

I may be a fool but I’m Your fool,

hoping to die

with Your name on my lips.

O child of God, Meher said stop seeking

and become the sought.

My trembling fingers

My trembling fingers                                                                                  

I’ve never come near to humility

but I’ve admired it from afar.

I was raised neck-deep in it,

a down-to-earth natural position

where the power and grace of God

was an evident firsthand everyday experience

yet my own humility early on gave way

to shame and pride and then a lifelong duplicity.

 

Baba would sometimes ask (as a test)

a would-be disciple to walk the streets naked.

My mind explores the possibility

but my trembling fingers

can’t unfasten and remove my clothing.

It was humility lost long ago in the Garden  

(the essence of innocence) and it is shame to this day

that keeps God’s children hidden among the leaves.

O child of God, humility is the nakedness

required to learn at last who you really are.

A rumor of Union

A rumor of Union

Someone is knocking at the heart’s door.  No one’s home.

Why do I wander ever outside myself?

When will I answer that knocking?

Not with words, but with my whole being?

O child of God, dip into His silence –

and let the streams run clear.

If you must speak, recite poetry for the lovelorn.

Or learn a few Tavern songs.

Lifetimes of searching; the elusive One just beyond my fingers.

Love is a homesickness scented with neem trees.

As a child, I wondered where all the trains were going.

They ended up in Ahmednagar, roaring past the Tomb

          of my Beloved.

Passengers have bought tickets for various destinations.

But they’re in God’s territory now.

O child of God, for many years you’ve chased the rumor of Union.

With ruined heart, surrender now and graciously accept defeat.

The One calling you

The One calling you                                                                                    

Enticed by the promise of annihilation,

dust as the goal instead of paradise,

chances are you never were

much enamored of yourself.

Perhaps some sort of epiphany

has shaken the reasonableness from your bones

or the unexpected purity and sincerity

of the One who offers the barter

has overcome your fear of death.

Ask for nothing, the Master says, and you might

have always believed nothing is what you deserve.

Still, a proposal of renunciation and servitude,

ending with annihilation is an odd enticement.

Maybe you have considered all along

yourself a mistake –

that there needs to be a correction.

You’ve known it deep down forever

and longed for your lonely light

to be extinguished or outshone –

made extraneous by the eternal light of its Maker.

O child of God, the One calling you

is the One you have been awaiting for ages.