I Blog Poetry and Prose

I remember a December night
when the stars were glittering lights
adorn the dark boughs
of a celestial fir tree.

The light ignited
by the Glory of God
now burns bright
in the spiritual realm,
the Kingdom of Abha,
the Abha Paradise.

On this most auspicious day,
I contemplate 'Abdu'l-Baha--
the Center of Baha'u'llah Covenant--
the Most Mighty Branch,
the Most Great Branch,
the Mystery of God,
the Perfect Exemplar,
the Master,
and the Servant of Baha.

Poetry
is the language of the spirit--
the dialect of the human soul--
the verses
of all the world's sacred scriptures
echo the voice of the Holy Spirit,
and reverberate
with God's love for humanity.

Twenty-twenty draws to an end--
it's the year hasn't been a friend,
the year of the coronavirus pandemic,
and the year humanity realized
that racism is an epidemic.

Slowly,
we are moving
toward a new normal,
in which xenophilia--
not xenophobia--
is the norm.

What a wondrous gift
God h as given humanity
in this age of turmoil and stress;
words of comfort
to guide us into maturity.

War poems reverberate through the dawn,
a tribute to heroes--
both the living and the dead--
who left their homes
and gave their all
for their country.

Unity's circle is drawn,
it encompasses all humanity--
no matter what the color,
the creed,
the nation,
or the culture--
we are all one species,
one family.

Gratitude is transformative!
Each day brings new reasons to be thankful,
and to express thanks
to the Lord.

Until I read "Spiritual Newsletter (November 4, 2020)" , I had never heard of a Spiritual Biography. After reading Lilli 🧿 ☕ 's description of one, I realized that was something I have been contemplating for a few years. This year's NaNoWriMo project "Epistles From My Soul" , while it isn't exactly a spiritual biography, comes close to one. In this book, I am writing letters to people who have passed into the spiritual world. So far I have written letters to Baha'u'llah, The Bab, my Mother, my Father, and my paternal Grandfather. I plan to write letters to my paternal Grandmother, my maternal Grandmother, my maternal Grandfather, and about four other people.

The rivers are many
their source is one;
they all flow to the sea -
down from the mountains of God's love
to the sea of unity.

Where did the time go?
It ticked
second by second
into history,
and left behind the year's insanity.

When I was thinking about this entry, the following scripture--which I think I memorized in Vacation Bible School--popped into my head. "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee."1920 As I meditated on that Bible verse, I realized that "Trust in God" is a theme in all religions, and emphasized by all of God's divine prophets. After meditating on the scripture, I opened Poor in all Save God: Comfort and Guidance for Hard Times--from the Writings of the Baha'i Faith to the chapter Trust in God, the Provider.

His words are an ocean of healing
for humanity,
curing it of its separation
from the Almighty.

I am a NaNoWriMo rebel
attempting to take a metaphorical leap
into the bottomless chasm
of dead dreams
and half-remembered
or forgotten ideas.

Moments of silence
strengthen the connection
between mind,
body,
and soul.

How do you live each day
as if everything were a miracle?
Prayer,
scripture reading,
and meditation
transforms the mundane
into the awesome.

Knowledge is necessary
for us to rise
out of the abyss
of failure.

Joy is waking up before dawn
and listening to the neighborhood silence,
while you read the sacred scriptures
or say dawn prayers.