The City of Saba (2)

The people of Saba feel bored

with just the mention of prophecy.

They have no desire of any kind. Maybe some

idle curiosity about miracles, but that's it.

This over-richness is a subtle disease.

Those who have it are blind to what's wrong,

and deaf to anyone who points it out.

The city of Saba cannot be understood

from within itself, but there is a cure,

as individual medicine, not a social remedy.

Sit quietly and listen for a voice

that will say, Be more silent.

As that happens, your soul starts to revive.

Give up talking, and your positions of power.

Give up the excessive money.

Turn toward the teachers and the prophets

who do not live in Saba. They will help you

grow sweet again, and fragrant and wild and fresh,

and thankful for any small event.

The City of Saba (1)

Addis Ababa Road, by Alex Morrall

 

In the city of Saba there is a glut of wealth. 

Everyone has more than enough.

Even the bathstokers wear gold belts.

Huge grape clusters hang down on every street

and brush the faces of the citizens.

No one has to do anything.

You can balance an empty basket on your head,

and it will fill by itself

with overripe fruit dropping into it.

Stray dogs stray in lanes

full of thrown-out scraps with barely a notice.

The lean desert wolf gets indigestion

from the rich food. Everyone is

satiated with all the extra.

There are no robbers. There is no energy

for crime, or for gratitude.

And no one wonders about the unseen world.

Birdsong from Inside the Egg

There is an excess

in spiritual searching

that is profound ignorance.

Let that ignorance be our teacher.

The Friend breathes into one

who has no breath.

A deep silence revives the listening

and the speaking of those two

who meet on the riverbank.

Like the ground turning green in a spring wind,

like birdsong beginning inside the egg.

Like this universe coming into existence,

the lover wakes, and whirls

in a dancing joy,

then kneels down

in praise.

Emptiness

Now I return to the text,

And He is with you,

wherever you are.

(Qur'an 57:4)

But when have I ever left it?

Ignorance is God's prison.

Knowing is God's palace.

We sleep in God's unconsciousness.

We wake in God's open hand.

We weep God's rain.

We laugh God's lightning.

Fighting and peacefulness

both take place within God.

Who are we then

in this complicated world-tangle,

that is really just the single straight line

down at the beginning of ALLAH?

Nothing.

We are emptiness.

The Tree of Awe

How does part of the world leave the world?

How can wetness leave water?

Don't try to put out a fire by throwing on

more fire. Don't wash a wound with blood.

No matter how fast you run, your shadow

more than keeps up. Sometimes it's in front.

Only full, overhead sun diminishes your shadow.

But that shadow has been serving you.

What hurts you blesses you.

Darkness is your candle.

Your boundaries are your quest.

I can explain this, but it would break the glass cover

on your heart, and there is no fixing that.

You must have shadow and light source both.

Listen, and lay your head under the tree of awe.

When from that tree, feathers and wings

sprout on your soul, be quieter than a dove.

Don't open your mouth for even a cooooo.

One Song

Every war and every conflict

between human beings has happened

because of some disagreement about names.

It is such an unnecessary foolishness,

because just beyond the arguing

there is a long table of companionship

set and waiting for us to sit down.

What is praised is one, so the praise is one too,

many jugs being poured into a huge basin.

All religions, all this singing, one song.

The differences are just illusion and vanity.

Sunlight looks a little different

on this wall than it does on that wall

and a lot different on this other one,

but it is still one light.

We have borrowed these clothes,

these time-and-space personalities,

from a light, and when we praise,

we are pouring them back in.

Surrender

Joseph is back.

And if you don't feel in yourself

the freshness of Joseph,

be Jacob.

Weep, and then smile.

Do not pretend to know something

you have not experienced.

There is a necessary dying,

and then Jesus is breathing again.

Very little grows on jagged rock.

Be ground. Be crumbled,

so wildflowers will come up

where you are.

You have been stony for too many years.

Try something different. Surrender.