Oct 17 2014

Rabindranath Tagore – I touch God in my song

Published by under Poetry

I touch God in my song
by Rabindranath Tagore

English version by Rabindranath Tagore

I touch God in my song
      as the hill touches the far-away sea
            with its waterfall.

The butterfly counts not months but moments,
      and has time enough.

Let my love, like sunlight, surround you
      and yet give you illumined freedom.

Love remains a secret even when spoken,
      for only a lover truly knows that he is loved.

Emancipation from the bondage of the soil
      is no freedom for thee.

In love I pay my endless debt to thee
      for what thou art.

— from The Fugitive, by Rabindranath Tagore


/ Photo by smerfeo /

…only a lover truly knows that he is loved.

In this poem’s few short lines, Rabindranath Tagore marries the bhakti path of utter love for God with the heart of karma yoga’s union through service and action.

In traditional Indian metaphysics, the goal is usually understood to be enlightenment and freedom from the karmic tug that traps us in the cycle of earthly embodiment, “emancipation from the bondage of the soil.” But here Tagore challenges the otherworldliness that often engenders.

Even the spiritual idea of liberation can become a selfish goal. For one utterly in love with God, the paying of that “debt” is simply a labor of love. Every effort, every experience, even suffering, is simply an expression of one’s love for God. That is enough right there for the true lover of God. Rather than seeking escape from “the soil,” the world is seen as a panorama that offers endless opportunities to worship and experience the Divine.

This is the great vision of karma yoga.

It is also the attitude that finally allows us to be at rest on our spiritual journey, rather than live as a convict on the run. What some see as the prison yard, becomes instead an exercise yard… or a playground! It is a courageous way of acknowledging that freedom is not escape, it is deep presence.

And we find that we live not in fleeting time, but in the ever expanding present moment.

The butterfly counts not months but moments,
      and has time enough.

Rabindranath Tagore, Rabindranath Tagore poetry, Yoga / Hindu poetry Rabindranath Tagore

India (1861 – 1941) Timeline
Yoga / Hindu

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3 responses so far

Oct 17 2014

beneath the mask

Seek the smoldering eyes
beneath the mask.

No responses yet

Oct 14 2014

Derek Walcott – Love After Love

Published by under Poetry

Love After Love
by Derek Walcott

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

— from Collected Poems 1948 – 1984, by Derek Wolcott


/ Photo by vanillapearl /

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving

This is a magical moment, when we finally encounter ourselves… when we actually see through to something essential, when we see through to something that is what we really are.

Most of the time I think we carry a reflexive fear of that meeting, so we tense up and expend a great deal of effort to avoid it. But Derek Walcott rightly says it is a moment of elation, one that inspires a deep smile and a profound sense of homecoming.

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Is there more to say? Perhaps also a reminder to celebrate the journey that has brought us here…

Sit. Feast on your life.

Derek Walcott, Derek Walcott poetry, Christian poetry Derek Walcott

St. Lucia & UK (1930 – )
Christian

More poetry by Derek Walcott

2 responses so far

Oct 14 2014

real magic

Remember, real magic
is hidden,
hidden in the quiet moments.

No responses yet

Oct 14 2014

Book Completion and Pre-Order Reminder

I am expecting to receive a print proof copy of The Longing in Between any day now, and I am so pleased. The cover is beautiful, with artwork by AlicePopkorn. Even the way the text is laid out on the page is lovely and meditative. Most of all, I hope you will find the poems and commentary to carry the same sense of inspiration and exploration you expect from these emails and blog posts. The Longing in Between is something I have been working toward since I created the Poetry Chaikhana more than ten years ago. This has only been made possible through the encouragement and long-term support of all of you. I offer my heartfelt thanks! Time to celebrate!

While I was proud of Real Thirst, which I published a few years back, in many ways I saw it as a preliminary run for this and future Poetry Chaikhana anthologies. Unlike Real Thirst, The Longing in Between is not a collection of my own poems. This new book is an anthology of the amazing sacred poetry, classical and contemporary, that you receive in the Poetry Chaikhana emails each week. And each poem is accompanied by my own thoughts and commentary — something people kept telling me they missed in Real Thirst. In other words, The Longing in Between is a collection of favorites from past Poetry Chaikhana emails and blog posts, but edited, refined, and expanded for this new book. And The Longing in Between has twice as many pages as Real Thirst! There is plenty to savor and contemplate in this new anthology.

If you would like to find out more, I just posted further information about The Longing in Between, including the table of contents and some excerpts from the book. Click here to read more…

Pre-Order through Oct. 15 (or thereabout)

I want to remind everyone that tomorrow is the last official day to pre-order your copy of The Longing in Between. I say it is the last “official” date because, unofficially, I can accept pre-orders through the end of Saturday, October 18.

Why pre-order the book? Well, you get a discounted price. I will also hand sign your copy before mailing it out. Most of all, your pre-order helps to cover the initial publishing expenses, which is a big help. Of course, The Longing in Between will be available through normal channels after its publication date in early November.

Read More + Pre-Order

Again, thank you, everyone, for all of your help and encouragement along the way. I consider this book to be a real community accomplishment!

No responses yet

Oct 08 2014

Yunus Emre – One Who Is Real Is Humble

Published by under Poetry

One Who Is Real Is Humble
by Yunus Emre

English version by Jennifer Ferraro & Latif Bolat

To be real on this path you must be humble –
If you look down at others you’ll get pushed down the stairs.

If your heart goes around on high, you fly far from this path.
There’s no use hiding it –
What’s inside always leaks outside.

Even the one with the long white beard, the one who looks so wise –
If he breaks a single heart, why bother going to Mecca?
If he has no compassion, what’s the point?

My heart is the throne of the Beloved,
the Beloved the heart’s destiny:
Whoever breaks another’s heart will find no homecoming
in this world or any other.

The ones who know say very little
while the beasts are always speaking volumes;
One word is enough for one who knows.

If there is any meaning in the holy books, it is this:
Whatever is good for you, grant it to others too –

Whoever comes to this earth migrates back;
Whoever drinks the wine of love
understands what I say –

Yunus, don’t look down at the world in scorn –

Keep your eyes fixed on your Beloved’s face,
then you will not see the bridge
on Judgment Day.

— from Quarreling with God: Mystic Rebel Poems of the Dervishes of Turkey, Translated by Jennifer Ferraro / Translated by Latif Bolat


/ Photo by SoulFlamer /

Yunus Emre gives us several wonderful lines in this poem…

There’s no use hiding it –
What’s inside always leaks outside.

That just about sums up the spiritual perspective of everything, doesn’t it? One way or another, the inner world always reveals itself. Whatever masks we wear eventually fall away or slowly take the shape of what lies beneath. Why hide what’s inside? We should cultivate and celebrate that inner self. It will show itself anyway.

This poem in general seems to be a critique of religious hypocrisy, and specifically it deflates the idea of religious superiority. Those first lines give us a strong image:

To be real on this path you must be humble –
If you look down at others you’ll get pushed down the stairs.

I imagine a stern qadi (or bishop or preacher or rabbi) who has spent his life carefully studying the minutia of religious law and has come to see everyone as falling short. He casts a cold eye on flawed and worldly humanity and judges them all to be far beneath him. It’s as if he is looking down a long staircase at the world.

That figure is in far greater spiritual danger than most of the people he looks down on. The thing he hasn’t recognized is how unstable those stairs are. Any distance of spiritual perfectionism we construct in our minds is inherently rigid and brittle, yet it must stand on a living, shifting ground. Those stairs will always collapse in the end.

The more people “look down on the world in scorn,” the further they fall. This is unavoidable gravity.

Even the one with the long white beard, the one who looks so wise –
If he breaks a single heart, why bother going to Mecca?
If he has no compassion, what’s the point?

Yunus Emre gives us the essential keys: humility and compassion. Everything else leads to pretense, which disjoints the soul, and false superiority, which enforces the illusion of separation and leads to collapse.

Yunus, don’t look down at the world in scorn –
Keep your eyes fixed on your Beloved’s face,
then you will not see the bridge
on Judgment Day.

We shouldn’t miss the logic of the first two lines: When we cast scornful eyes on the world, we can’t possibly see the Beloved’s face. The opposite is true, as well; when we are transfixed by the beauty of the Beloved, we see nothing but beauty. This is a clue… any religious figure who speaks with scorn, is not engulfed by the vision of the Divine and should be avoided.

The final couple of lines are also worth understanding. What does he mean about seeing or not seeing a bridge on Judgment Day? According Muslim tradition, in order to enter Paradise, one must cross as-Sirat, a bridge that is as thin as a hair and as sharp as a blade. But the purest never have to encounter the bridge. Yunus Emre is saying that it is only when we are not already lost in the vision of the Beloved that we must face the bridge. With that hair-thin bridge waiting, wasting focus on scorn is a dangerous thing, indeed.

To me, this is a powerful poem on the importance of compassion, humility, and proper spiritual focus. And it is a good reminder to us all that everything returns to the Golden Rule:

If there is any meaning in the holy books, it is this:
Whatever is good for you, grant it to others too –

Yunus Emre, Yunus Emre poetry, Muslim / Sufi poetry Yunus Emre

Turkey (1238 – 1320) Timeline
Muslim / Sufi

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3 responses so far

Oct 08 2014

what is

Forget about what should be.
Discover what is.

No responses yet

Oct 03 2014

Mahendranath Battacharya – Tell me, what are you doing now, Mind

Published by under Poetry

Tell me, what are you doing now, Mind
by Mahendranath Battacharya

English version by Rachel Fell McDermott

Tell me, what are you doing now, Mind,
sitting there with a blind eye?
There’s someone in your own house
but you’re so oblivious
you’ve never noticed!
There’s a secret path
with a small room at the end –
and what an amazing sight inside:
caskets filled with jewels
that you never even knew about.
There’s a lot of coming and going along that path.
Go, upstairs, to the highest room,
and you’ll see the moon rising.

Premik says excitedly,
Keep your eyes open;
if you want to be awake in yoga
you must travel this secret way.

— from Singing to the Goddess: Poems to Kali and Uma from Bengal, Translated by Rachel Fell McDermott


/ Photo by InertiaK /

Autumn has begun to settle in where I live in Colorado. Crisp days offer new colors to the eye. The weather makes you want to wrap up warm and step outside to go in search of secret places where forgotten stories can be found amidst dappled golds and shadows. Returning home, you sip warm tea and read a favorite book.

Autumn has always seemed like the perfect season for poetry…

It is the final day of Navaratri, India’s nine day celebration of the goddess, so I thought a poem by a goddess devotee would be appropriate for today…

I love the way Mahendranath Battacharya addresses this poem to his own mind in the third person — a rather dim-witted third person, at that.

The poem becomes a sort of self-instruction while, at the same time, it gets its audience laughing. The Mind is commonly imagined to be in charge, the source of knowledge but, instead, Battacharya (like his fellow Bengali poet, Ramprasad) sees it as the fool messing everything up with its obliviousness and inability to notice what is in its “own house.” The “someone” who has crept into his house is the thieving ego.

This poem reflects the Tantric practices of Mahendranath Battacharya which emphasize a very precise knowledge of subtle energetic pathways that must be traversed by the Kundalini energy when it is awakened. With most people the Kundalini force is said to sit dormant at the base of the spine. Through spiritual practice and devotion, it is awakened as a fiery, energetic charge that rises up “the secret way” of the subtle channel along the spine, leading “upstairs” to the skull.

The “small room at the end,” the “highest room” is the mystical chamber (in some traditions referred to as the Bridal Chamber) contained in the bowl of the skull. It is here, amidst a flood of light, that the Kundalini (the Goddess Energy) joins in union with Siva (the Divine Masculine Energy), producing enlightenment and spiritual ecstasy. This is the real treasure of life, the radiant wealth each of us carries hidden within us, “caskets filled with jewels.” Find this room and “you’ll see the moon [of enlightenment] rising!”

Mahendranath Battacharya

India (1843 – 1908) Timeline
Yoga / Hindu : Shakta (Goddess-oriented)

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One response so far

Oct 03 2014

open pathway

The pathway is open,
and that pathway is the heart.

No responses yet

Oct 01 2014

Rolf Jacobsen – Moon and Apple

Published by under Poetry

Moon and Apple
by Rolf Jacobsen

English version by Robert Bly

When the apple tree blooms,
the moon comes often like a blossom,
paler than any of them,
shining over the tree.

It is the ghost of the summer,
the white sister of the blossoms who returns
to drop in on us,
and radiate peace with her hands
so that you shouldn’t feel too bad when the hard times come.
For the Earth itself is a blossom, she says,
on the star tree,
pale with luminous
ocean leaves.

— from The Winged Energy of Delight, Translated by Robert Bly


/ Photo by ShortAxel /

It’s past the summer season of apple blossoms and well into the autumn of ripe apples (at least for those of us north of the equator), but something about this poem spoke to me today. The blossoms of the apple tree glowing beneath the shining moon, a reminder to us all that even when things seem difficult, the Earth itself — and each one of us — “is a blossom… on the star tree.” If we are blossoms, that must mean we are quietly ripening with the season, and in the natural unfolding of things we will become sweet fruit in the cosmos.

Rolf Jacobsen, Rolf Jacobsen poetry, Secular or Eclectic poetry Rolf Jacobsen

Norway (1907 – 1994) Timeline
Secular or Eclectic
Christian : Catholic

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One response so far

Oct 01 2014

a new path

Discover a new path
through this magical, unknown day.

No responses yet

Sep 26 2014

Hadewijch – The Queen of Sheba

Published by under Poetry

The Queen of Sheba
by Hadewijch

English version by Mother Columba Hart

The Queen of Sheba
Came to Solomon;
      That was in order to gain wisdom.
When she had found him, indeed,
His wonders streamed upon her so suddenly
      That she melted in contemplation.
            She gave him all,
            And the gift robbed her
      Of everything she had within –
            In both heart and mind,
            Nothing remained:
      Everything was engulfed in love.

— from Hadewijch: The Complete Works (Classics of Western Spirituality) , by Mother Columba Hart


/ Photo by priesteres /

Although my mother’s family was Catholic, my mother herself was a freethinker who didn’t want to raise me with overly rigid ideas of religion. She made sure I was exposed to the services of several different Christian, Jewish, Hindu, and Buddhist traditions so I could make up my own mind about God and religion as I grew up.

But that open-ended structure also meant that I came late to the Bible. I was in college before I really sat down and started reading the Bible. It wasn’t what I expected! How was I to understand these complex histories, stories, poems, and sayings? One thing was immediately obvious to me– a surface, literal reading of the Bible was not the way to understand its heart. I frequented the college libraries, checking out books of biblical commentary, from rather stuffy old tomes to modern New Age interpretations, all in an intense effort to discover what was really being conveyed by this enigmatic holy book.

You know, one of the sections that really had me scratching my head for a long time was the Song of Songs, sometimes called the Song of Solomon. In the center of the Bible was a love poem! An erotic love poem. The Song of Songs is a poem of pastoral lovers, alternating between the man’s voice and the woman’s voice. Although a reading of the poem won’t tell you this, tradition says that it is written by King Solomon and it relates his love affair with the Queen of Sheba. As lovely as the Song of Solomon is, what does it have to do with religion and spiritual truth? I mean, it is steamy stuff!

A little more background to help us make sense of the underlying meaning of Hadewijch’s poem: King Solomon was the son of the heroic King David. Solomon was considered the embodiment of perfect wisdom. Jewish, Christian, and Muslim mystics have looked to Solomon as the keeper of hidden divine knowledge. The Queen of Sheba is said to have come from Africa or Arabia. When these two great rulers met, they had a celebrated love affair.

But what does any of this have to do with spirituality? A surface telling of this story may be entertaining, but there is a deeper, esoteric meaning underlying all of this.

In the spiritual reading of this story, the figures of the Queen of Sheba and King Solomon represent the classic spiritual lover and Beloved. In this lover/Beloved dichotomy, the woman typically represents the soul and the man represents God. The journeying Queen of Sheba coming to King Solomon is the searching soul awakening to love as it approaches God in His radiant wisdom.

This is how the Song of Songs, and so many other classic poems describing passionate lovers, can be simultaneously read as spiritual works. Love and passion, separation and and loss of self and union. These teach us important lessons of the spiritual journey and the relationship between oneself and the Divine.

Keeping this in mind, reread this poem by Hadewijch.

Does it make more sense now? Hadewijch is saying that the journeying soul (“The Queen of Sheba / Came to Solomon; / That was in order to gain wisdom”) encounters the Divine Presence and yields (“she melted in contemplation”) The little self becomes nothing (“Nothing remained”), yet is flooded with the great vision of reality (“His wonders streamed upon her”) and all-encompassing love (“Everything was engulfed in love”).

This is the great spiritual formula: the sweetly melting ego leads to the Divine Self; death leads to new Life.

PS – The Longing In Between Pre-order Response

We have had an excellent initial response to my announcement of the new anthology’s release in early November. Thank you, everyone, for your support of this new publication! The final elements of the book are coming together beautifully, and I think you’ll be as pleased as I am with it.

The special pricing will remain available for pre-orders placed before October 15. For more information about The Longing In Between click here.

Hadewijch, Hadewijch poetry, Christian poetry Hadewijch

Belgium (13th Century) Timeline
Christian : Catholic

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5 responses so far

Sep 26 2014

back at breath

Words are built of breath,
and thoughts of words.
When we find the silent, knowing space
beneath words and thoughts,
we are back at breath.

No responses yet

Sep 24 2014

New Book: The Longing In Between

I am so pleased to announce the upcoming publication of the new Poetry Chaikhana anthology, The Longing In Between. The final touches are being added now, and we have a publication date of early November.

The Longing In Between is a new collection poems by beloved classical sacred poets and a few modern visionaries — accompanied by my own thoughts, meditations, personal stories, and commentary.

As much as I love the immediacy of emails and the personal connection they allow, emails are fleeting. Particularly loved emails may get saved for a while, but inevitably they fade into the ethers. The Longing In Between gathers together poems and commentary from favorite Poetry Chaikhana emails, expanded and refined — in book form. For me, nothing can compare with the satisfaction of leaning back in a chair while leisurely turning the pages of a beloved book. I build relationships with books in ways that no email or website can approach. I really hope The Longing In Between will invite you into that sort of literary friendship.

The Longing In Between, Sacred Poetry From Around the World, Poetry Chaikhana Anthology, Ivan M. Granger
Pre-order Now!
= Coming in early November =

The Longing In Between
Sacred Poetry From Around the World

A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology

Edited with Commentary by Ivan M. Granger

Pre-order
before Oct 15:
$14.95
$16.95

PURCHASE

A delightful collection of soul-inspiring poems from the world’s great religious and spiritual traditions, accompanied by Ivan M. Granger’s meditative thoughts and commentary. Rumi, Whitman, Issa, Teresa of Avila, Dickinson, Blake, Lalla, and many others. These are poems of seeking and awakening… and the longing in between.

Devoted readers of the Poetry Chaikhana can finally enjoy this amazing poetry paired with Ivan’s illuminating commentary in book form. The Longing In Between is a truly engaging and thought-provoking exploration of sacred poetry from around the world.




“The Longing in Between is a work of sheer beauty. Many of the selected poems are not widely known, and Ivan M. Granger has done a great service, not only by bringing them to public attention, but by opening their deeper meaning with his own rare poetic and mystic sensibility.”

ROGER HOUSDEN
author of the best-selling Ten Poems to Change Your Life series

I am announcing The Longing In Between early because the Poetry Chaikhana is offering a special pre-order deal. If your purchase a copy before October 15th–

  • You will receive a discounted price: $14.95 (rather than the full price of $16.95 USD)
  • I will personally sign your copy
  • And, most importantly, you will be offering a big help in covering the Poetry Chaikhana’s initial publication expenses

To purchase a special pre-order copy of The Longing In Between click here or the ‘Purchase’ link above for payment through PayPal. If you prefer to pay by check or money order, you can mail it to:

Poetry Chaikhana
PO Box 2320
Boulder, CO 80306

Shipping and handling: $3 US, $4 Canada, $9 International per book
(Payments should be made to “Poetry Chaikhana.” US funds, please!
And please don’t forget to include your mailing address.)




“Ivan M. Granger has woven these poems into a tapestry of great wisdom with his reflection on each poem. I can imagine each poem and commentary furnishing the basis for a daily meditation.”

HARVEY GILLMAN
author of Consider the Blackbird and A Light that is Shining





       Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt–blessed vision!–
that a fountain flowed
here in my heart.
I said: Why, O water, have you come
along this secret waterway,
spring of new life,
which I have never tasted?

       Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt–blessed vision!–
that I had a beehive
here in my heart;
and the golden bees
were making
from all my old sorrows
white wax and sweet honey.

       Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt–blessed vision!–
a blazing sun shone
here in my heart.
It was blazing because it gave heat
from a red home,
and it was sun because it gave light
and because it made me weep.

              Last night, as I was sleeping,
       I dreamt–blessed vision!–
       that it was God I had
       here in my heart.

              Antonio Machado

This is my favorite poem by the Spanish poet Antonio Machado. Actually, it is one of my favorite poems, period.

The repeated line, which I have translated as “blessed vision,” has elsewhere been rendered as “marvelous error.” Machado’s actual phrase in Spanish is “bendita ilusión,” but this “illusion” is not an erroneous delusion; it is an illusion in the same sense that a dream or vision is an illusion. It is something intangible, seen and felt but not physically there. I have the feeling that Machado is teasing us by calling the experience a dream, seeing if we are foolish enough to ignore it. Perhaps the poet can’t quite believe the beauty of his vision.

Let’s take just a moment to explore how this poem parallels the mystic’s ecstatic experience…




“The Longing In Between… presents some of the choicest fruit from the flowering of mystics across time, across traditions and from around the world. After each of the poems in this anthology Ivan M. Granger shares his reflections and contemplations, inviting the reader to new and deeper views of the Divine Presence. This is a grace-filled collection which the reader will gladly return to over and over again.”

LAWRENCE EDWARDS, PH.D.
author of Awakening Kundalini: The Path To Radical Freedom and Kali’s Bazaar




Ivan M. Granger Consider purchasing a pre-order copy of The Longing In Between and support the Poetry Chaikhana!

And thank you to everyone for all of the encouragement and support along the way!

Ivan

PS- Happy Equinox and happy New Moon!

2 responses so far

Sep 12 2014

Bibi Hayati – Is it the night of power

Published by under Poetry

Is it the night of power
by Bibi Hayati

English version by Aliki Barnstone

Is it the night of power
Or only your hair?
Is it dawn
Or your face?

In the songbook of beauty
Is it a deathless first line
Or only a fragment
copied from your inky eyebrow?

Is it boxwood of the orchard
Or cypress of the rose garden?
The tuba tree of paradise, abundant with dates,
Or your standing beautifully straight?

Is it musk of a Chinese deer
Or scent of delicate rosewater?
The rose breathing in the wind
Or your perfume?

Is it scorching lightning
Or light from fire on Sana’i Mountain?
My hot sigh
Or your inner radiance?

Is it Mongolian musk
Or pure ambergris?
Is it your hyacinth curls
Or your braids?

Is it a glass of red wine at dawn
Or white magic?
Your drunken narcissus eye
Or your spell?

Is it the Garden of Eden
Or heaven on earth?
A mosque of the masters of the heart
Or a back alley?

Everyone faces a mosque of adobe and mud
When they pray.
The mosque of Hayati’s soul
Turns to your face.

— from The Shambhala Anthology of Women’s Spiritual Poetry, Edited by Aliki Barnstone


/ Photo by Jane Rahman /

There are several important themes and images in this poem, but for now let’s bask in the poem’s rich aromas. Take a slow, deep breath…

Is it the night of power
Or only your hair?
Is it dawn
Or your face?

In addition to a nectar-like sweetness, many mystics experience a scent that can be rapturously overwhelming or tantalizingly subtle. The aroma is the intoxicating scent of what I sometimes call the Celestial Drink, variously called wine, amrita, rasa, dew, honey. But this blissful scent can also be understood as the perfume worn by the Beloved that awakens sacred ardor upon the spiritual journey.

And, of course, perfume is scented oil, oil being the substance used to anoint and initiate.

Is it musk of a Chinese deer
Or scent of delicate rosewater?
The rose breathing in the wind
Or your perfume?

To suggest the almost erotic sense of divine union, sometimes the earthier scent of musk is described. Musk is the aphrodisiac oil of the musk deer. Deer, being creatures of profound silence and shyness, are themselves symbols of the elusive Beloved.

In Bibi Hayati’s poem here, she carries the language of sacred aroma over to the scent of flowers, as well. Blossoms and flowers are natural symbols for enlightenment, the unfolding of awareness and the opening of the heart. Let us not forget, though, that flowers have a direct connection to the Celestial Drink, for their sweet perfume emanates from the sweet nectar they hold.

And, of course, the flower precedes the fruit, whose juice ultimately yields wine…

Is it a glass of red wine at dawn
Or white magic?

Let’s take a moment to contemplate this image more deeply. Let this form a visual image in your mind: a glass of wine held up to the rising sun at dawn. The rim of the glass catches the light of the early sun, lighting up in a ring of white, with the sun reflecting itself as a single starburst of light along the edge — it is an evocation of the Muslim symbol of the star and crescent. The rim of a glass catching the light — that is the crescent — and within it is held the star or sun.

One way to understand this symbol is that the circle represents the world, or perhaps the individual soul. But, to be spiritually awakened, that circle must be broken open. That edge, which is the wall of separation, is broken open by the star — the light of God, enlightenment. The crescent and the star of Islam for Muslim mystics is a succinct expression of the proper relationship between the human or the worldly with the divine reality.

The closing lines get to the heart of everything:

Everyone faces a mosque of adobe and mud
When they pray.
The mosque of Hayati’s soul
Turns to your face.

Every sacred ritual is always an outer enactment of what we must realize within. What good does it do when we face a mosque or altar or the rising sun, but our souls are turned away from the all-enchanting beauty of the Beloved?

Bibi Hayati

Iran/Persia (19th Century) Timeline
Muslim / Sufi

Continue Reading »

No responses yet

Sep 12 2014

what you are

You are what you are,
not what you think you are.

One response so far

Sep 10 2014

Story: The King’s Fortress, by the Baal Shem Tov

Published by under Stories

I thought a change of pace would be nice today. Rather than a poem, I offer a story by the Baal Shem Tov. Rabbi Israel ben Eliezer of Mezhizh, known respectfully as the Baal Shem Tov (the Master of the Good Name), lived in the early 1700s and is the spiritual father of the Hassidic movement that became such an important part of Judaism in Eastern Europe (and later, after World War II and the Holocaust, spread to the rest of the world).

Much of the spiritual genius of Hassidic Jewish mysticism is passed to us through stories, usually tales from the lives of revered Rabbis. Sometimes though we get an allegorical story, like this one told by the Baal Shem Tov himself…

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/ Photo by ivan.kovpak /

There was a king who created, through his magical art, barriers and walls, one within the other, with which to surround himself. All these were, however, really illusory. He commanded that money be spread around at the gates of each of these walls to see how great the determination and desire of his subjects, how much effort each one of them would make, to come to the king.

There were those of his subjects who immediately returned home after they had collected a little money at the gates of these illusory walls. There were others who got as far as the second or third walls. But there were very few who did not desire to collect merely physical treasures, only to reach the king himself.

After considerable effort they came to the king and saw that there were really no barriers and walls, everything was a magical illusion.

So it is with God. Those who truly understand know that all the barriers and walls of iron, all the garments and coverings are really on God himself in hiding, as it were, because there is no place where he is not.

(trans. Alan Unterman)

Teachings of the Jewish Mystics
by Perle Besserman

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