There is a place beyond wounds. There is a depth under sadness, a stage beyond sickness, and a knowledge beyond articulation. It is not a place that you can reach by yourself, but it is a place you can be pulled into by our living God.
In this quiet space past all boundaries of the ego, everything is a profound and wondrous mystery. There is marvelousness and enchantment in everything that exists. Here, in this meadow beyond the forest, there is no longer a division between the physical, the mental, and the spiritual. Here, there is no longer a division even between life and death.
This place is the glory beyond death, the ground under consciousness, and the heaven overlaid on earth. In the journey, we reach ever deeper within ourselves to God… and when the time is right and the garden ready for harvest, He reaches across and pulls us here. It is the fulfillment of yearning love and a mortal wound to everything in us bound up in time.
Much of the darkness we conjure is a desperate attempt to avoid this raw embodiment of grace and bliss – to avoid the hooks of the holy fisherman. Such a pity, the fear of fish in this tragic comedy.
Throw Me On A Scale, by Hafiz
Today love has completely gutted me.
I am lying in the market like a
Every desire and sinew absolutely silent
But I am still so fresh.
Everything is now the same to me.
The touch of a beautiful woman
As she lifts me near,
Drawing my scent into her body;
She thinks about taking me home.
The touch of a wondrous fly
Drinking my vital fluids
Through a strange shaped flute,
The sun laying its radiant gaze against my cheek,
Human voices and the breeze from a passing
All send miraculous currents into
God’s beauty has split me wide open,
Throw Hafiz on a scale,
Wrap me in cloth,
Bring me home.
Throw Me On A Scale, Hafiz, The Gift