I stand, alone, on the shoreline of Eternity
Lit by a fiery-halo of stars beyond number.
*
Slowly at first, the dervish turns
Moving anti-clockwise, head tilted
Beneath his tombstone hat, listening,
As if listening – for what?
Is it this sound, this rushing, this hissing,
Stars rubbing against each other in the immensity of space
Creating fire; fire upon fire, “Light upon Light”
Across the aeons of time
His right hand, slightly cupped, to catch this light
His left hand turned down, drawing this power, this energy
Down, down through his body, lost in the turning,
Creating form upon form as it pours forth from his heart-space, down, down
A libation poured out to the parched earth below, blessing this world in its passing.
Which way is up? Which down? This turning,
Is it anti-clockwise? Or is it clockwise? Can you see Its face?
The heart is a mirror revealing and concealing
Depending on one’s place of perspective.
Enter that place, and tell me,
Which way is up, which down?
Time slows, at this centre point, it stops.
Ever renewing, ever the same.
Then, tell me, which way is backwards?
Which forwards? Which past, and which present?
Imagine, open your inner eyes and look!
The “Hour-Glass” of time must be turned.
This way only, yesterday becomes today,
Tomorrow only a dream yet to be realised.
We? We sit at the centre where these
Sands that trickle down (or up) pass,
Hissing slightly as they do so.
Which way is past? Which future?
Look! Open your eyes, and look. where you stand, infinity passes
And you don’t even know it.
Like a “Mobius Strip”, this time capsule
Illuminates the Way to Eternity!
Which way does the dervish “turn”?
Is it clockwise or is it anti-clockwise?
Let your heart take you there,
To this place,
For Knowing is not a game for sightseers. One must
join the inner and the outer to make this trip.
Only then…do lover and Beloved
Become timeless
And Eternity awaits
Those who travel this Way.
*
I stand, no longer alone, on the shoreline of Eternity
For “she” awaits me there.
Tears of recognition well in our eyes
As he/she stretch-out their hands in welcome.
*
The falcon must heed the Falconer’s call
Else … “ …Thing’s fall apart, the centre cannot hold…mere anarchy is loosed upon the world…”*
So listen…listen for the call.
*(My apologies to those other lovers of W B Yeats and especially for my abridged version of this fragment of his “The Second Coming”)
Tracks in a Pathless Land 