beloved

Ascension Day, and I take the day off.

To remember … to become still. And to cast more of the weight of this material world from my shoulders, the way You did, becoming so light that You could ascend … and become The Indwelling Presence.

I find a piece of paper from a journal, containing a treasure I had thought I’d lost.

A poem, by Shams-ud-din Mohammed Hafiz … a poem that still grips me so when I read it, I just want to bloom open like a fragrant white blossom in the night.

It is a good day, granting me this joy rediscovered. It is the right day for this poem.

Beloved,
last time
when You walked through the city,
so beautiful and so naked,
You left a thousand women crazy
and impossible to live with.
You left a thousand married men
confused about their gender;
children ran from their classrooms
and teachers were glad You came.
And the sun tried to break out
of its royal cage in the sky!
And at last, and at last,
lay its ancient love at Your feet.