O Marvel! a garden amidst the flames.
My heart has become capable of every form:
it is a pasture for gazelles and a convent for Christian monks,
and a temple for idols and the pilgrim's Kaa'ba,
and the tables of the Torah and the book of the Quran.
I follow the religion of Love: whatever way Love's camels take,
that is my religion and my faith.
ibn al-`Arabi, Tarjuman al-Ashwaq, in The Mystics of Islam, translated by Reynold A Nicholson
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Sonnet from a Letter, by John Keats
O thou whose face hath felt the Winter's wind,
Whose eye has seen the snow-clouds hung in mist
And the black elm tops 'mong the freezing stars,
To thee the spring will be a harvest-time.
O thou, whose only book has been the light
Of supreme darkness which thou feddest on
Night after night when Phoebus was away,
To thee the Spring shall be a triple morn.
O fret not after knowledge- I have none,
And yet my song comes native with the warmth.
O fret not after knowledge- I have none,
And yet the Evening listens. He who saddens
At thought of idleness cannot be idle,
And he's awake who thinks himself asleep.
c. 1818
One of the best poems ever on the Via Negativa.
Whose eye has seen the snow-clouds hung in mist
And the black elm tops 'mong the freezing stars,
To thee the spring will be a harvest-time.
O thou, whose only book has been the light
Of supreme darkness which thou feddest on
Night after night when Phoebus was away,
To thee the Spring shall be a triple morn.
O fret not after knowledge- I have none,
And yet my song comes native with the warmth.
O fret not after knowledge- I have none,
And yet the Evening listens. He who saddens
At thought of idleness cannot be idle,
And he's awake who thinks himself asleep.
c. 1818
One of the best poems ever on the Via Negativa.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
THE NIGHT, by Henry Vaughan
THROUGH that pure virgin shrine,
That sacred veil drawn o'er Thy glorious noon,
That men might look and live, as glow-worms shine,
And face the moon :
Wise Nicodemus saw such light
As made him know his God by night.
Most blest believer he !
Who in that land of darkness and blind eyes
Thy long-expected healing wings could see
When Thou didst rise !
And, what can never more be done,
Did at midnight speak with the Sun !
O who will tell me, where
He found Thee at that dead and silent hour ?
What hallow'd solitary ground did bear
So rare a flower ;
Within whose sacred leaves did lie
The fulness of the Deity ?
No mercy-seat of gold,
No dead and dusty cherub, nor carv'd stone,
But His own living works did my Lord hold
And lodge alone ;
Where trees and herbs did watch and peep
And wonder, while the Jews did sleep.
Dear Night ! this world's defeat ;
The stop to busy fools ; cares check and curb ;
The day of spirits ; my soul's calm retreat
Which none disturb !
Christ's* progress, and His prayer-time ;
The hours to which high Heaven doth chime.
God's silent, searching flight ;
When my Lord's head is fill'd with dew, and all
His locks are wet with the clear drops of night ;
His still, soft call ;
His knocking-time ; the soul's dumb watch,
When spirits their fair kindred catch.
Were all my loud, evil days
Calm and unhaunted as is thy dark tent,
Whose peace but by some angel's wing or voice
Is seldom rent ;
Then I in Heaven all the long year
Would keep, and never wander here.
But living where the sun
Doth all things wake, and where all mix and tire
Themselves and others, I consent and run
To ev'ry mire ;
And by this world's ill-guiding light,
Err more than I can do by night.
There is in God—some say—
A deep, but dazzling darkness ; as men here
Say it is late and dusky, because they
See not all clear.
O for that Night ! where I in Him
Might live invisible and dim !
That sacred veil drawn o'er Thy glorious noon,
That men might look and live, as glow-worms shine,
And face the moon :
Wise Nicodemus saw such light
As made him know his God by night.
Most blest believer he !
Who in that land of darkness and blind eyes
Thy long-expected healing wings could see
When Thou didst rise !
And, what can never more be done,
Did at midnight speak with the Sun !
O who will tell me, where
He found Thee at that dead and silent hour ?
What hallow'd solitary ground did bear
So rare a flower ;
Within whose sacred leaves did lie
The fulness of the Deity ?
No mercy-seat of gold,
No dead and dusty cherub, nor carv'd stone,
But His own living works did my Lord hold
And lodge alone ;
Where trees and herbs did watch and peep
And wonder, while the Jews did sleep.
Dear Night ! this world's defeat ;
The stop to busy fools ; cares check and curb ;
The day of spirits ; my soul's calm retreat
Which none disturb !
Christ's* progress, and His prayer-time ;
The hours to which high Heaven doth chime.
God's silent, searching flight ;
When my Lord's head is fill'd with dew, and all
His locks are wet with the clear drops of night ;
His still, soft call ;
His knocking-time ; the soul's dumb watch,
When spirits their fair kindred catch.
Were all my loud, evil days
Calm and unhaunted as is thy dark tent,
Whose peace but by some angel's wing or voice
Is seldom rent ;
Then I in Heaven all the long year
Would keep, and never wander here.
But living where the sun
Doth all things wake, and where all mix and tire
Themselves and others, I consent and run
To ev'ry mire ;
And by this world's ill-guiding light,
Err more than I can do by night.
There is in God—some say—
A deep, but dazzling darkness ; as men here
Say it is late and dusky, because they
See not all clear.
O for that Night ! where I in Him
Might live invisible and dim !
Monday, June 27, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
The Human Being
The human being is an animal who has received the vocation to become God.
-St Basil the Great.
The great Architect of the universe conceived and produced a being endowed with both natures, the visible and the invisible: God created the human being, bringing its body forth from the pre-existing matter which he animated by his own Spirit...Thus in some way a new universe was born, small and great at one and the same time. God set this "hybrid" worshipper on earth to contemplate the visible world, and to be initiated into the invisible; to reign over earth's creatures, and to obey orders from on high. He created a being at once earthly and heavenly, insecure and immortal, visible and invisible, halfway between greatness and nothingness, flesh and spirit at the same time...an animal en route to another native land, and, most mysterious of all, made to resemble God by simple submission to the divine will.
- St Gregory Nazianzen
-St Basil the Great.
The great Architect of the universe conceived and produced a being endowed with both natures, the visible and the invisible: God created the human being, bringing its body forth from the pre-existing matter which he animated by his own Spirit...Thus in some way a new universe was born, small and great at one and the same time. God set this "hybrid" worshipper on earth to contemplate the visible world, and to be initiated into the invisible; to reign over earth's creatures, and to obey orders from on high. He created a being at once earthly and heavenly, insecure and immortal, visible and invisible, halfway between greatness and nothingness, flesh and spirit at the same time...an animal en route to another native land, and, most mysterious of all, made to resemble God by simple submission to the divine will.
- St Gregory Nazianzen
Friday, June 24, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
THE COMMISSION
Her ample solitude
no trespasser profane;
no artifice infringe
the glory of Her sun.
An ocean of gray doves
burns in Her opened eyes,
whose wisdom's word compels
the science of the breeze.
Wherefore, this slender hand
shall track the thieving night,
fetter absconding death,
pillage the hunter's spoils;
Commissioned to retrieve
lost pledge of timeworn love.
-by Wayward Disciple
no trespasser profane;
no artifice infringe
the glory of Her sun.
An ocean of gray doves
burns in Her opened eyes,
whose wisdom's word compels
the science of the breeze.
Wherefore, this slender hand
shall track the thieving night,
fetter absconding death,
pillage the hunter's spoils;
Commissioned to retrieve
lost pledge of timeworn love.
-by Wayward Disciple
THE TRIAL
No one would drop her sleep,
No one her dream unveil;
My love would tear her milk,
Unleash her bare desire.
Her smallest breath undone,
Celestial fires uproot;
The running of Spring's sun
Wind down into the earth.
Until this leaf display
The emblem of her peace,
I never rest my soul,
Consider no release;
Request not, nor require,
That which would make me whole.
-by Wayward Disciple
No one her dream unveil;
My love would tear her milk,
Unleash her bare desire.
Her smallest breath undone,
Celestial fires uproot;
The running of Spring's sun
Wind down into the earth.
Until this leaf display
The emblem of her peace,
I never rest my soul,
Consider no release;
Request not, nor require,
That which would make me whole.
-by Wayward Disciple
DIVINE GENERATION, by Anne Francois Louis Janmot
-from her stunning series of paintings entitled, Poem of the Soul.
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