They say that “the human body is a house in which we all live.” But this house is vacant O Lord, it is empty. There is no one living in there without Thee. This house is waiting... waiting for You, Dear Lord. The wait is long. This emptiness is dreadful. The flesh is waiting. The soul is hollow. This dead corpse has but little life whilst awaiting Thee. I await Your Grace. Come see me Lord! This the cry of a bare house. My corporal corpse.
The eyes are waiting. The wait is long and terrible. They have drained all the tears, for no more are left.It is good that there are no more left, for these deadly drops, would blur the sight. The sight one needs to have Thy Glimpse. My dry eyes wait. Where are you? Are you in the sky? My eyes wish to absorb the sky. And then they wonder, “How can a drop absorb the Ocean?” For without the ocean the drop would dry. Mercy! Mercy! My Lord, don’t let Your drop dry up. Give him the Ocean. For it would not be honorable for the ocean to let the drop dry. Keeping His servant’s word is the duty of the Master.
My heart wants to sing Your Praise. There is music in my soul. This soul exists by Thy Grace and the music is a gift. It sings what You tell it to sing. The song is for Thy admiration, for nothing else is worth singing beyond Your reverence. It sings Thy Self. Thyself.” With Thine, there is no mine. The ‘I’ is lost somewhere in between. It’s all Thee. The song is feeble and my voice is low. Help this weak one, O my Lord; for you are always on the side of the ones who are insubstantial. Help your weak ones - for the weak dream to loose themselves, and only the weak have the spine to lose. To lose ‘I’ in Thee.
You seem far Dear Lord, but the wind around me brings me Your message. Are you somewhere near? These ears long to hear the message You deliver from Your Heart to my soul. They do not want to miss a word. For this soul has waited many lives to listen. And there are still many lives to come. The flow of the wind tells me that You are delivering the message of the Sky. Come my Lord, reveal Thy Word. Thy Word is the Creator of all the many creatures. It is the Soul of many souls
These hands wish to serve You. How can I serve Thee with them? The only gift that these hands could give, is themselves to serve Thee. But even these hands are not worth a gift to Thee. And then I look at them again. For now I find them worthy, for these are Your personal gift. How foolish am I to offer Thy own gift to Thee! My apology My Lord, My mind is small. It wishes to offer you a gift, but there is nothing that I possess. What can a slave give to the Emperor? Yet he still wishes to give something. Ah! how poor is the beggar. Awe is the state of the slave. O Lord! You made him possess nothing to offer Thee. Then why do they say that “man is the best Thy creations?” O Lord this best creation has nothing of worth to give . There is nothing that he possesses. These eyes are Yours. This tongue is Yours. These hands are Yours. This mind is Yours. This heart is Yours. This body is Yours. This soul is Yours and the self itself is yours. If it is all Yours, then Why is there any “self?” But then, who am I to wonder, my Lord? Even the wonder itself is Yours!
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Apr 22, 2009