Sunday, February 13, 2011

A Conversation about Love, Sadness and the Nature of You


I once asked my love,
“May I write to you?.

And he answered,
“Write as often as you want.”

I once asked my love,
“May I hear your voice?”

And he answered,
“You need only to desire me, and surely you will hear me.”

I once asked my love,
“Let me see you.”

And he answered,
“I am in everything and everyone, I am everywhere and also no where at all. If you forget me, it will do you no good to fly with the Cherubims nor play in the stables of the steeds of Seraphims in heaven, for you shan’t see me. But if you remember me then you will know that I am with you.”

I once asked my love,
“Set me free.”

And he answered,
“If you knew me, you will know that I will not do that. Not when I have troubled nothingness to bring you from utter nothingness to become a voice in me, a delight to my gaze, a little sparkle of eternity from my creation of eternity, which in itself is nothing to me. But you grew, and you filled a you-shaped space in my bouquet of love for the Beloved.”

I once asked my love,
“What is sadness?”

And he answered,
“Sadness is to see your beloved ones do hurt unto themselves. To forget me, to not hear my entreaties that I whisper into their mute and silent hearts. To walk blindly into the fire of their own making. To run away from my clouds of mercy that is chasing them from one madness to another. My loved ones, they speak so eloquently of sadness. But they do not understand sadness, not until they can see how it pains me to see them in pain. My love is without measure, and my sorrow for who I love is a thing that would make even hope despair. So this vision I keep from them. Even you.

I once asked my love,
“What is it that you desire?

And he answered,
“You.”

I once asked my love,
“But who am I really?”

And he answered not.
.

I woke up today with a lightness in my head. This conversation was told to me in the balmy air of the morning. I am now writing this to you in the aftermath of an evening storm of thunder and rain. Sprays of rainwater splashed into my bedroom through my balcony door that I always keep open.

I hope you shall always keep your balcony door open, sunshine. Not for burglars but for me. For I desire to steal away your heart. I am unscrupulous that way.

Pax Taufiqa.

No comments: