Forgive the Dream

All your images of winter

I see against your sky.

I understand the wounds

That have not healed in you.

They exist

Because God and Love

Have yet to become real enough

To allow you to forgive

The dream.

You still listen to an old alley song

That brings your body pain;

Now chain your ears

To His pacing drum and flute.

Fix your eyes upon

The magnificent arch of His brow

That supports

And allows this universe to expand.

Your hands, feet, and heart are wise

And want to know the warmth

Of a Perfect One's circle.

A true saint

Is an earth in eternal spring.

Inside the veins of a petal

On a blooming redbud tree

Are hidden worlds

Where Hafiz sometimes

Resides.

I will spread

A Persian carpet there

Woven with light.

We can drink wine

From a gourd I hollowed

And dried on the roof of my house.

I will bring bread I have kneaded

That contains my own

Divine genes

And cheese from a calf I raised.

My love for your Master is such

You can just lean back

And I will feed you

This truth:

Your wounds of love can only heal

When you can forgive

This dream.

~Hafiz~

My sister mentioned hearing someone talk about forgiveness. He said we have to forgive in order to find our place in the universe, to find inner peace, to be whole. Forgiveness is one of those words that is so emotionally charged it can be difficult to really see into the heart of it.

For me the important thing has been to forgive myself. Once that is accomplished, letting go of long-held grievances against others is easier somehow. I wonder how many of us hold something against ourselves. Something so deep inside we may have forgotten.

Hafiz, as always, has uncovered an enduring truth: when you forgive the "dream" whatever that may be, your wounds heal and you merge with divine love.

Fear

Fear is the cheapest room in the house.
I would like to see you living
In better conditions.

                                          ~Hafiz

Fear can slip into your thoughts, and though unwelcome, bring great anxiety and deep distress. As a child fear was more often my companion than not and it wasn't until I reached adulthood that I discovered I was not my fear. It was a remarkable moment of immense freedom and joy to realize that I was not my fear or my thoughts or even my body.

Now that is not to say fear is never with me. The other day as I walked in an undeveloped area of southwest Florida, fear arose at the sound of rustling in the heavy underbrush. Our landlord had warned us there were wild boars, coyotes, and even bobcats! I was grateful to see a beautiful heron rise up from the bushes and the fear flew off with it.

Fear can be helpful, even necessary, but it doesn't need to be the room in which you confine yourself. In Yoga, we practice the lovely art of observing all, sensations, emotions, and thoughts. Letting go of each as it arises and dissolves away. It is a practice and, of course, some stay longer than others. But the art of detachment brings a peace that is beyond understanding. Grace becomes my welcome companion...

Forgive the Dream

All your images of winter
I see against your sky.

I understand the wounds
That have not healed in you.

They exist
Because God and Love
Have yet to become real enough

To allow you to forgive
The dream.

You still listen to an old alley song
That brings your body pain;

Now chain your ears
To His pacing drum and flute.

Fix your eyes upon
The magnificent arch of His brow

That supports
And allows this universe to expand.

Your hands, feet, and heart are wise
And want to know the warmth
Of a Perfect One's circle.

A true saint
Is an earth in eternal spring.

Inside the veins of a petal
On a blooming redbud tree

Are hidden worlds
Where Hafiz sometimes
Resides.

I will spread
A Persian carpet there
Woven with light.

We can drink wine
From a gourd I hollowed
And dried on the roof of my house.

I will bring bread I have kneaded
That contains my own
Divine genes

And cheese from a calf I raised.

My love for your Master is such
You can just lean back
And I will feed you
This truth:

Your wounds of love can only heal
When you can forgive
This dream.

~Hafiz

Hafiz does it again. Words that touch so far into the depths of my unconscious mind. What is this mystery that brings joy and sadness, pain and pleasure, winter and summer, hard and soft? Grace has brought me to a point of stillness, able to gaze upon ~
                   The magnificent arch of His brow
                   That supports
                   And allows this universe to expand.

The wounds exist because love is not real enough to allow the healing. Reading this takes me back to places I don't want to be; to pain I no longer feel. And yet, if the experiences never existed, I would not be here in the moment. Resting on a carpet of light, encirlced in the warmth of just being.