I set out on a well-worn path; In fact each plant and dusty patch I knew well: the delicate veins of the ferns, the broken and frayed leaves, those small stones clustered under the larger rock, the distance between here and there.
(No particle is out of place or unnamed and yet I walk around as if I hide. I worry! that I will never talk to you when every part of my being has been breathed into by Your Magnificence.
Yet today a patterned snake stretched herself on ground I often pass, her long suntanned body coolly dividing the path, I stopped -- I could go no further...
I wish for honesty, for purity, to live in perfect calculation, to surrender into the sweetness of discipline, into what is real.
I might step over her, I thought. But then distracted by the rise of her pebbled tail, shaking her long applauding finger to turn me away I quickly moved back from this tense gatekeeper, unbalanced by her strict authority and the newness. But then her dark eyes rose up like flames, inviting me dangerously towards! Did she hope I would touch the hard casing of her slanted head, to know the wisdom of silky smooth scales or gather warmth from the bright diamonds on the ridge of her back engaging with the low sun. I quickly found her magnificent, and myself a lowly imposter unable to find my way.
Even though my hands and face raise towards Your Glory the load of my rebellions hang like chains shuffling around my walking feet. See! I can only be honest about my dishonesty, (But even of that I do not know.)) *** It is Here that Your Truth always finds me. The warmth of the sun on my back, your gentle touch, A light slicing between two paths within my mind. This ground, this snake, the woods, the ferns, me, they all again become You! All sparkling particles strung up by afternoon light, Unable to do anything but reflect your Divine Face.
Sufism: An Inquiry Vol XVI, No. 3
A journal for people of the heart.