The Traces of My Beloved

My Beloved has come again,

I am light again, light as a feather whirling in the gravity of my Eternal Beloved;

My heart beats again on hearing the familiar echo of Her footsteps;

She is near and the smell of Her colorful perfume is throwing me in ecstasy again;

Tonight She has approached me from a direction unbeknownst to this world;

She has returned from a point at once infinitely far and infinitely near.

My Beloved has come again,

I have beheld those dark, bottomless eyes, the eyes that steal the hearts forever;

With borrowed eyes I have gazed into the abyss of infinite love;

I have been absorbed into Her Prakriti,

Oh my Love, this heart knows no master but You;

By your grace I have been humbled into that blessed Oblivion but this time I like to be that playful child in the shore of your boundless beauty; my Beloved, let us just play.

This wavering raft can’t withstand even a glimpse of Your blinding face, so let this affair be as it is from behind the Veil of Time; let me be soaked in Your majestic traces but gaze not in my direction, for Your piercing stare shatters me to the bone.

My Beloved has come again,

I am overcome by this fountain of joy; I am Majnoon tonight;

Tonight I am transformed into Her harp again; Oh my Beloved, let Your fingers wound the lifeless fibers of my spirit so that I may sing again the songs of heart’s eternal Eden

Oh, the Hidden Treasure, the Animator, The Possessor of my states, how beautiful is your sound and sight! How intoxicating is Your merciful breath to a heart in spiritual poverty!

Water finds the thirsty, rain finds the crop; abundance seeks scarcity and scarcity abundance,

But my Beloved! I am not thirsty, neither lacking; I am thirst itself. So my Love, come my way, because my union with You is in my annihilation in You,

But devour me not; let me gracefully and slowly dance my way into your Supreme Sakina

Oh, My Beloved has come again

The Ecstasy of Consciousness

The now is a whirling Dervish; it whirls and it worlds.

The Dervish sees; the Dervish sees,

A seeing that hides; a seeing that shows,

A seeing that lets be; a seeing that lets go,

One veils; one unveils,

One is the farthest; one is the nearest,

One is the eye; one is the I.

But, alas, how easily the trance slips past our hasty glance!

The Grand Magician told us this secret:

Yearn and remember,

The truth is not in holding; it is in withholding

He looked away and sighed,

This world is a mirage in the vacant gaze of the One