A thanks for your reading

Thanks so much to all of you for patiently wading through the past fifteen entries. I wrote these poems over a three month period in response to the Bahá'í Long Obligatory Prayer.  Each of us comes to this Prayer, indeed to any thoughtful reflection about life, with our own frame of reference.  That frame may only fit one person, it may fit many but in the end it is the individual response that effects change in the world.  These poems are one of an infinite number of possible responses, understandings or ideas.  

Three thoughts on the nature of prayer:

“Know thou that in every word and movement of the obligatory prayer there are allusions, mysteries and a wisdom that man is unable to comprehend, and letters and scrolls cannot contain.”

(‘Abdu'l-Bahá, The Compilation of Compilations, Volume II, p. 233)

“Bahá'u'lláh has so much stressed the importance of worship. It is not sufficient for a believer to merely accept and observe the teachings. He should, in addition, cultivate the sense of spirituality, which he can acquire chiefly by the means of prayer. The Bahá'í Faith, like all other Divine religions, is thus fundamentally mystic in character. Its chief goal is the development of the individual and society, through the acquisition of spiritual virtues and powers. It is the soul of man that has first to be fed. And this spiritual nourishment prayer can best provide. Laws and institutions, as viewed by Bahá'u'lláh, can become really effective only when our inner spiritual life has been perfected and transformed. Otherwise religion will degenerate into a mere organization, and become a dead thing.”

(From a letter dated 8 December 1935 written of behalf of Shoghi Effendi to an individual believer. The Compilation of Compilations, Volume II, p. 238)

"No form of literature in the whole world is less objective than prayers. They are things of motion, not of repose. They are speeches addressed to a Hearer; they are medicine applied to a wound; they stir the worshipper and set something in his heart at work. That is their whole purpose."

(Ruhiyyih Khanum, “The Prayers of Bahá’u’lláh,” The Bahá’í World, Vol. IX, 1940-1944, p. 795)

A really fabulous website about the Obligatory Prayers: Click HERE

Speaking of Obligations...final: the Pulsar

Wheel of stars (clicking on this link will take you to an amazing website.)

The Pulsar

Upon supernova, stars sometimes crush their cores into neutron stars carrying enormous magnetic fields and angular momenta. These fields exceed the earth's by a factor of around 10¹², and they rotate about once per second despite having masses exceeding that of the sun!  Such powerful electrodynamics create beams of radio waves sweeping across earth's observatories once per pulsar rotation. This produces a fascinating periodic signal which we observe and study--a pulsar.

The pulsar turns, dervish-like,

calling into the dust of the sky. 

Once it was a star with planets,

but there was an event.

A great blow-out.  The greatest.

The star concentrated,

focused, spinning,

pulsing, emitting at 30 Megahertz

or upward and in the optical, x-ray

and gamma ray spectrum

spinning on its axis every

1.56 milliseconds. 

Sending three holy words.

Here am I.

My own star is nearer than that

and dearer to me.

It does not speak except in heat and day.

Moon-like, I raise my silent face

to the sun and all I know.

But there is a node in my heart receiving

impulses at 30 Megahertz

or upward.  Through clouds of

dark matter, past

newborn stars and planets,

I turn round to receive,

and reply.

                                                          This is the sound of a pulsar

Speaking of Obligations....(15)

So Maybe Rapunzel Felt Nervous about Leaving the Tower. . .

On any given day a multitude of sins

arise to maneuver me into their home.

There I sit in hoyden splendor,

with jeweled shackles binding my heart

to their well-planned ways.

Where is the One who will free me

from the Prison of Self and win back my Heart?

And if my Heart were free,

how then would I find my way

through the dark world,  alone,

without my sins?

15th and almost the last in a series on the Long Obligatory Prayer

Speaking of Obligations.....(14)

St. Columcille of Ireland

Getting old is a mystery.

Sore back, sore feet, high blood pressure

and parts that shouldn’t be mentioned

just aren’t what they used to be. 

Sometimes I lay in bed at night

weeping over what hasn’t happened.

Sleepless as I wonder why.

Does everyone feel like this? 

And don’t we all hope

to simply get up in the morning

and do the right thing?

                     (Rhonda Palmer]






to read more about St. Columcille of Ireland (who managed to save civilization in his later years) go here:

St. Columcille of Ireland

(Almost (but not quite) the end of a series of poems inspired by the Long Obligatory Prayer)

Speaking of Obligations.....(13)

Hey Buddy—

Thanks for the call this morning,

the one that got me up and ready for the day.

You’ve always been good like that

and I appreciate it.  I do.

I gotta say, You’re the best.  Really.

Speaking of Obligations.....(12) footsteps in this wilderness

This lonely place frightens me.

The desert is so dry and my tears are making

a great salt flat. 

The only map was lost, I forgot the way,

now it’s forty years of wandering

without manna,

without even a golden calf for company.

You were here before me—I see traces

of your footprints now and again. 

Sometimes I lay in the dirt

just to be close to a thought of You.

You, surviving this place for me.

the Language of the Heart (speaking of obligations/translation into Lakota)

Language, like life itself, is a strange and misunderstood activity.  We think we are making sense, we think are connecting with others, when even within one language there are nuances and easy ways to confuse and to be confused.  How much more do we misunderstand the silent language of a world, a universe, that tries with every breath to tell us secrets?   The poem I posted yesterday about listening to that inner whispering has been translated into the Lakota language by Kevin Locke (Tȟokéya Inážiŋ, meaning "The First to Arise"), whose mother was a tireless champion of not only her beautiful language, but also of the language of oneness.  

Diana Malouf was a new friend.  Author of Unveiling the Hidden Words (a study of the translation of the Arabic verses of the Hidden Words by Baha'u'llah) she was herself a translator.  She died yesterday in her home, and I would like to dedicate this poem to her as well as to Kevin's mother, Patricia Locke (Tawacin WasteWin, she of good consciousness ‚ a compassionate woman) who is inspirational in many ways.

Sitting here with my friends,

okȟólawičhawaye ob iblótake

Mitakuye oyasin.

All my relatives.

mitákuye oyas’iŋ

All created things.

wamákȟognake oyas’iŋ

All those who have gone on.

tóna t’ápi oyás’iŋ

The saints.  The Holy Ones.

Wakȟáŋ Oyáte kiŋ hená.

We sit here with the best friend—

Kȟolá iyótaŋ wašté kči uŋhíyotakapi

that Great Voice speaking in my heart—

Ho Wakȟáŋ kiŋ mičháŋte ogná wóglake

Sitting here we have a little coffee, a little tobacco.

wakȟályapi etáŋ, čhaŋlí etaŋ yuhá uŋkíyotakapi.

We sit quietly and listen to the Great Voice, remembering what we know.

waslólaye kíksuye Ho Wakȟáŋ kiŋ iníla uŋk’úŋpi.

Remembering what is true.  What is true.

Táku wówičhakȟe kiŋ uŋkíksuyapi.  Táku wówičhakȟe kiŋ.

Patricia Locke (Tawacin WasteWin, she of good consciousness ‚ a compassionate woman)