Looking for Your Face

From the beginning of my life
I have been looking for your face
but today I have seen it

Today I have seen
the charm, the beauty,
the unfathomable grace
of the face
that I was looking for

Today I have found you
and those who laughed
and scorned me yesterday
are sorry that they were not looking
as I did

I am bewildered by the magnificence
of your beauty
and wish to see you
with a hundred eyes

My heart has burned with passion
and has searched forever
for this wondrous beauty
that I now behold

I am ashamed
to call this love human
and afraid of God
to call it divine

Your fragrant breath
like the morning breeze
has come to the stillness of the garden
You have breathed new life into me
I have become your sunshine
and also your shadow

My soul is screaming in ecstasy
Every fiber of my being
is in love with you

Your effulgence
has lit a fire in my heart
and you have made radiant
for me
the earth and sky

My arrow of love
has arrived at the target
I am in the house of mercy
and my heart
is a place of prayer

-- Rumi (Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī) (1207-1273), Persian Sufi mystic and poet

Scripture reference:  Psalm 27:1,4-9

3 Epiphany A

Ten Thousand Idiots

It is always a danger 

To the aspirant
On the
Path

When one begins 

To believe and 

Act

As if the ten thousand idiots 

Who so long ruled
And lived
Inside

Have all packed their bags 

And skipped town
Or
Died.

-- Hafiz of Shiraz (1310-1390), Sufi, one of the greatest Persian lyric poets

Saints Bowing in the Mountains

Do you know how beautiful you are? 

I think not, my dear.

For as you talk of God,
I see great parades with wildly colorful bands 

Streaming from your mind and heart, 

Carrying wonderful and secret messages
To every corner of this world.

I see saints bowing in the mountains 

Hundreds of miles away
To the wonder of sounds
That break into light

From your most common words.

Speak to me of your mother, 

Your cousins and your friends.

Tell me of squirrels and birds you know. 

Awaken your legion of nightingales - 

Let them soar wild and free in the sky

And begin to sing to God. 

Let's all begin to sing to God!

Do you know how beautiful you are? 

I think not, my dear,

Yet Hafiz
Could set you upon a Stage 

And worship you forever!

--Hafiz of Shiraz (1310-1390), one of the greatest Persian lyric poets

Laughter

What is laughter? 

What is laughter?
It is God waking up! 

O it is God waking up! 

It is the sun poking its sweet head out

From behind a cloud
You have been carrying too long,
Veiling your eyes and heart.

It is Light breaking ground for a great Structure 

That is your Real body- called Truth.

It is happiness applauding itself and then taking flight 

To embrace everyone and everything in this world.

Laughter is the polestar
Held in the sky by our Beloved, 

Who eternally says,

"Yes, dear ones, come this way, 

Come this way toward Me and Love!

Come with your tender mouths moving
And your beautiful tongues conducting songs
And with your movements - your magic movements 

Of hands and feet and glands and cells - Dancing!

Know that to God's Eye,
All movement is a Wondrous Language, 

And Music - such exquisite, wild Music!"

O what is laughter, Hafiz?
What is this precious love and laughter 

Budding in our hearts?

It is the glorious sound 

Of a soul waking up!

--Hafiz of Shiraz (1310-1390), Sufi, and one of the greatest Persian lyric poets

"For Years My Heart Inquired of Me"

Nakalele Blowhole, Maui

For years my heart inquired of me

                   Where Jamshid's sacred cup might be,

And what was in its own possession

                   It asked from strangers, constantly;

Begging the pearl that's slipped its shell

                   From lost souls wandering by the sea.

Last night I took my troubles to

                   The Magian sage whose keen eyes see

A hundred answers in the wine

                   Whose cup he, laughing, showed to me.

I questioned him, "When was this cup

                   That shows the world's reality

Handed to you?" He said, "The day

                   Heaven's vault of lapis lazuli

Was raised, and marvelous things took place

                   By Intellect's divine decree,

And Moses' miracles were made

                   And Sameri's apostasy."

He added then, "That friend they hanged   

                   High on the looming gallows tree—

His sin was that he spoke of things

                   Which should be pondered secretly,

The page of truth his heart enclosed

                   Was annotated publicly.

But if the Holy Ghost once more

                   Should lend his aid to us we'd see

Others perform what Jesus did—

                   Since in his heartsick anguish he

Was unaware that God was there

                   And called His name out ceaselessly."

I asked him next, "And beauties' curls

                   That tumble down so sinuously,

What is their meaning? Whence do they come?"

                   "Hafez," the sage replied to me,

"It's your distracted, lovelorn heart

                   That asks these questions constantly."

--Hafiz of Shiraz (1310-1390), one of the greatest Persian lyric poets, translated by Dick Davis

Night Prayer

O my Lord,

the stars glitter

and the eyes of men are closed.

Kings have locked their doors

and each lover is alone with his love.

Here, I am alone with you.

--Rabi’a (Basra, 717-801), female Sufi poet and mystic (translated by Jane Hirshfield)

The version of this prayer that was in Evelyn Underhill's Prayer Book is as follows:

O Lord, the stars are shining and all things take their rest; and kings have shut their doors and every lover is alone with his beloved: and here I am alone with You.

O my Lord

O my Lord,

if I worship you
from fear of hell, burn me in hell.

If I worship you
from hope of Paradise, bar me from its gates.

But if I worship you
for yourself alone, grant me then the beauty of your Face.

--Rabi'a al-Basri (717-801), Sufi mystic, translated by Jane Hirschfeld

Rabi'a was an influence on Evelyn Underhill.

The Second Jesus

O Lord, it’s me: blanked out in divine light
and become a horizon of rays flashing from the Essence.

My every atom yearned for vision
till I fell drunk on the manifestations of lordship.

Love polished the rust from my heart’s mirror
till I began to see the mysteries;

I emerged from the darkness of my existence
and became what I am (you know me) from the Light of Being:

blackened like charcoal dark soul’s smoke
but mixed with love fires and illumined.

Some say the path is difficult;
God forgive them! I went so easily:

The Holy Spirit breathes his every breath into Mo’in–
who knows? Maybe I’m the second Jesus.

--Gharib Nawaz (ca 1142- 1236), Persian Sufi poet and mystic, from The Drunken Universe: An Anthology of Persian Sufi Poetry