Sunday, July 26, 2009

Part Ten (finale): "In Meher's Time"

Part Ten
In Meher's Time

A child is born and takes its first breath,
in Meher's time.
A middle aged man arrives at his mother's bedside just as she takes
her last breath,
in Meher's time.
A collision of flesh and steel is averted at the last possible moment,
in Meher's time.
A heart is healed at the utterance of a healing word,
in Meher's time.
A kindness, too small to be accounted for in the ledger book of heaven,
arrives in Meher's time.
A telephone rings and saves a man from the razor and the warm bath,
in Meher's time.
A plough is put to soil when the moment is most ripe,
in Meher's time.
A last will is written at the last hour, revoking all previous iterations,
leaving everything to the gardener,
in Meher's time.
Rain arrives to save the harvest,
in Meher's time.
War is only just averted with a gift basket of fruit and roses,
in Meher's time.
A father reconciles with a son,
in Meher's time.
A taker becomes a giver,
in Meher's time.
A murderer becomes a saint,
in Meher's time.
A saint becomes his Self,
in Meher's time.
A warrior becomes his opponent,
in Meher's time.
An ancient enemy is converted to deepest friendship,
in Meher's time.
A commoner becomes a king,
in Meher's time.
The Lord Himself becomes a warrior and a king both,
in Meher's time.

In Meher's time everything is accomplished, though it takes a million years.
In Meher's time, everything happens, and nothing happens.
In Meher's time, a child cries and is comforted, though no one else is there.
In Meher's time the dawn breaks, and a heart opens.
In Meher's time a yearning is answered and a new yearning is born.
In Meher's time layers of mind-woven fear are painfully unraveled,
exposing a core of joy.
In Meher's time a healing takes place in the space of a Name.
In Meher's time a fragrance without source fills one's life with solace.
In Meher's time the waves roll, the leaves fall, and a bubble is set free
in a sudden embrace of air.
In Meher’s time a bubble bursts, only to know Itself as the Ocean.
In Meher's time a tear falls and a joy rises.
In Meher's time a world is born from a single, beautiful thought.
In Meher's time a world dies with the killing of an idea.
In Meher's time sailors drown within sight of land, but are reborn
as captains of men.
In Meher's time a life goes out like a candle and is reborn as flame.
In Meher's time a room is filled with sudden light and a quiet darkness dies.
In Meher's time a war is fought and a peace is forged.
In Meher's time a problem is solved but the solution is overlooked.
In Meher's time a solution is found but the problem remains.
In Meher's time no one escapes but everyone is freed.
In Meher's time everyone is freed but no one escapes.
In Meher's time a prison is destroyed and a binding is born.
In Meher's time a prison is built and a binding is destroyed.
In Meher's time a faith is destroyed and a religion grows.
In Meher's time a religion dies and a true faith is born.
In Meher's time a trumpet sounds and an ear is opened.
In Meher's time a tear is dried and a flood of tears is released.
In Meher's time seconds are saved and a lifetime is gained.
In Meher's time a garden grows untended by any gardener.
In Meher's time a race of people perish and rise up stronger than all life.
In Meher's time a king abdicates but finds a new throne for his heart.
In Meher's time a flower opens and a leaf falls.
In Meher's time a friend lost a thousand lifetimes ago is suddenly found.
In Meher's time a smile, a glance, a word from a long-ago lifetime
tickles the nose of memory into sudden wakefulness.
In Meher's time everything is left behind but nothing is abandoned.
In Meher's time everything passes but the NOW remains.
In Meher's time goodbyes are uttered endlessly until one hello makes
the last goodbye final.
In Meher's time all men die and are reborn as ancient children.
In Meher's time sunlight old as time falls across ten thousand lifetimes.
In Meher's time the wick of humankind is trimmed, leaving human unkind
and unforgiving in communal groping darkness.
In Meher's time the world grows sick with gnawing fear
and dark with trampled light
and sour with rankest envy
and bitter with darkest hate
and suicidal with unbearable sadness
that seemingly only the bullet and the blade can allay.

In Meher's time a dervish wanders the roads of India dying of thirst for God.
In Meher's time this dervish instantly renounces his wandering
by promising to marry a thirteen-year-old girl skipping blithely down the street,
a pink ribbon in her hair.
In Meher's time this dervish father's the Father of all creation.
In Meher's time God wills Himself alive once again
and like any man is born bloody from the womb.
In Meher's time a handful of lives cluster like stars around a brand new sun.
In Meher's time the players are gathered for their new role as companion
to the Constant Companion.
In Meher's time a new song is written for a new instrument.
In Meher's time this new song is sung by hearts trained lifetimes ago
in its singing.
In Meher's time this singing becomes the envy of angels.
In Meher's time an old man in Nanking, China prepares to die
while the womb of a young woman in upstate New York prepares for his rebirth.
In Meher's time the din of chaos rises, and a silence is born.
In Meher's time childlike singing and courteous conversation begin,
most unexpectedly, one more time.
In Meher's time voiceless men hear the voice of unconditional love
in their hearts, and turn toward that voice, singing.
In Meher's time a singing silence is born that fills all the dark places
in men's hearts with singing light.
In Meher's time, time and memory converge in the center of one Man's smile.
In Meher's time desire and longing are resolved in the desire and longing
to please Him.
In Meher's time the tug of memory and the pull of events grows slack
in His embrace.
In Meher's time a soul wanders the byways and pathways
of inconsequential action and finds the true road to Your feet,
stops knocking himself against the walls of want,
stops driving the engine of desire, or at least stops driving it so hard,
stops acting blindly and starts seeing,
stops making blunders and starts making sense,
stops wasting time and starts passing time with remembrance,
stops finding faults in others because he is too busy finding them in himself,
stops hurting and starts mending,
stops talking and starts paying attention,
stops challenging and starts surrendering,
stops planning and starts living,
stops living in the past and future but takes up residence in the NOW,
stops losing and starts finding that One who can lift him out of the drama
for just a moment, turn his head around, give him a sense (not Knowledge)
of the detritus of uncountable lives, and set his feet moving Tomb-ward
and his heart beating Name-ward.

In the time of Meher men's hearts will turn toward His light like a flower
toward the sun.
In the time of Meher an unknown song will sprout fully rehearsed from the lips
of men and women.
In the time of Meher nations will celebrate their differences instead
of going to war over them.
In the time of Meher compromise will no longer be considered a dirty word.
In the time of Meher compassion will count at least as much as cleverness.
In the time of Meher cockiness will give way to confidence.
In the time of Meher philanthropic acts will have a very small audience:
the one who gives and the Lord who sees.
In the time of Meher big business will calculate the value of stillness
as well as busyness.
In the time of Meher athletes will remember to never again forget that this is
a spectator sport.
In the time of Meher films will once again show us how far we can rise
instead of how low we can sink.
In the time of Meher silence will fill the world almost as completely as noise.

In Meher's time, in Meher's time,
don't prod the moment in Meher's time;
it will arrive, my dear, in its own sweet time,
-- in the yearning of an angel for a human form
-- in the sigh of a lover for a pair of encircling arms
-- in the laughter of a lunatic indifferent to derision
-- on the breath of an infant
-- on the smile of a child
-- in every moment's measured step
on the wings of time and its passing.

Time Rhymes

Dying Moments

In the wake of dying moments
I say your holy name.
No sooner it falls from my lips
Then I say it once again.

I have slept the sleep of centuries,
And on a thousand deathbeds lay.
But when I enter that final sleep
Your holy Name I'll say.


We delay our ultimate sacrifice
and postpone our surrender.
We casually forget to take Your Name;
trusting in time to help us remember.