Genesis by John Mizelle
Winning Entry of the 2013 Annual Songs of the Soul Poetry and Sacred Music Festival Contest
Between babe’s first demanding cry and body’s last surrendered sigh, pain and joy, and for the lucky, wonder. It takes so long for us to see the simple, plain discovery that God appears as light, but also thunder. Whatever form this strange life takes, the challenge is to find what makes the mountains rise and plows everything under. A host of beings fall and rise before our stunned and startled eyes. As quickly as they’re made, they’re torn asunder. Silence—the birth of every sound. Stillness—each movement finds its ground. Darkness gives shape to light, its folds make every form; the womb from which we all arise, the hive to life’s bright swarm. Before the thoughts of I arise and truth is veiled in smog of lies, the world reveals itself to be a dancer. No problem can appear, you see, until I’m sure that you’re not me. Before the question forms, we want an answer. If mind lies still for just a day, heart teaches what it means to pray. Life reveals warp and woof of its weaving. Interpenetrating forms obey no human laws or norms. We come and go, but there can be no leaving. Silence—the symphony is heard. Stillness—then wind and breath and word. Darkness erupts in light, gives all forms their release, then welcomes them all home again: Silence—Stillness—Peace.
Sufism: An Inquiry Vol XVI, No. 2
A journal for people of the heart.