So few believe it possible,
That one's Heart can become Illumined,
With an Exquisite Presence,
Unlike any other in manifest existence.
That which the Sufis call The Beloved,
The Hindus, Ananda,
Christians, the Holy Spirit,
And nondualists, the Self.
I cannot fault their disbelief,
In a world in which the mystical,
Is so often proven charlatanry,
And dismissed as religious hysteria.
I cannot fault their disbelief,
For I, too, was a cynic,
A rational, empirical man,
Who, being without mystical experience…
Dismissed it all as delusion or madness.
Oh… what a shock to the mind,
When the impossible occurred,
And through inward turning,
I found myself in Heaven…
Vanished, yet Alive.
Oh… what a shock to the mind,
When the impossible occurred,
And upon returning from Heaven,
I found my Heart imbued thereafter…
Intoxicated with Heaven's Ecstasy.
But none should believe me,
If it is not their experience,
For lunatics abound,
In this madhouse of the spirit.
None should believe me,
Until, driven within,
They discover, empirically,
That they are a strand…
Of Her Beautiful Hair.
