Loving Truth
​
I tried to find Him on the Christian cross, but He was not there. I went to the Temple of the Hindus and to the old pagodas, but I could not find a trace of Him anywhere. I searched on the mountains and in the valleys but neither in the heights nor in the depths was I able to find Him. I went to the Caaba in Mecca, but He was not there either. I questioned the scholars and philosophers but He was beyond their understanding. I then looked into my heart and it was there where He dwelled. He was nowhere else to be found.
~ Rumi
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(I)
Truth is more persuasive,
than the finest actor on stage,
More compelling,
than the soundest argument,
More magical,
than the most gifted mage,
More bold in vision,
than the most profound artist,
More flexible,
than the best olympian gymnist,
More charismatic,
than the most sentient leader’s charisma,
More absolute,
than life's least understood enigma,
More enigmatic,
than the most sensual lover’s magnetic pull,
More empty,
than the space most vacuum full,
More divine,
than holy book or miracle,
More clear,
than any prophets message or prediction of an oracle,
More wise,
than the cleverest group of philosophers/scientists,
More beautiful,
than the most perfect curves in all of existence.
(II)
Truth is that which allows all of this and more
to happen within her, as her.
Even allowing her dissenters,
Her professional ‘misunderstanders’,
Her petty illusion peddlers,
Her lovers,
And all living and non- in between,
To be embraced fundamentally,
In her non-judgemental bosom.
She is the blind lady of justice,
Weighing the scales of the mundane & awesome,
While never aging or loosing her grace,
Her timeless beauty, faceless face,
Calling those with courage in their hearts,
To witness her as their most sacred duty.
(III)
But this is just one side of truth…
There is another side, often more precious in nature,
Even though it bears resemblance as a lie,
and at times can become that,
or stay only as illusion, in the un-devoted eye.
Tis those visions we make true!
With blood, sweat and tears,
The conscious brush strokes of love despite all our fears.
Painting our soul's hues,
The greatest efforts of heart, metal and hands.
So we can live by our most cherished values,
And live out our most prized dreams and plans;
The left and right atrium's eternal muse.
The reasons for which we map journeys across existence itself.
Why we bother to find out, about nature/reality/Truth/the Self,
Being guided but also guiding her, in life’s sacred dance.
​
But, the ‘great’ Truth, that contains our lives’ ‘little’ truths –
is also trance.
They are actually one behind the curtains,
lights, audience and actors on stage.
​
Knowing this is the difference,
between the drowning psychotic,
and the swimming sage.
So what is the difference,
between trying for our dreams and not?
One is a question unmasked,
if even with failure, risks and/or mistakes.
The other is a lifetime wondering,
“What could have been?”
With no second takes.
It is for these illusory, ephemeral, felt,
existential longings that we learn to improve our game.
It matters that we try to make a difference,
Even though it is ‘all the same’.
The love of Truth and the truth of Love,
are only different by a play in name.
(IV)
Truth always transcends her ill wishers,
her denialists, her critics, and yes,
even her half efforting lovers.
Her most loyal fans, however,
Even though not always able to change the mind,
Of those wishfully deaf dumb and blind,
When they share their love for her,
the glasses by which they witness and become one with her;
In the form of telescopes & microscopes,
Allowing the ignorant to gaze.
By witnessing her radiating beauty,
They become engulfed by Love’s eternal blaze.
The Ignorant,
even while travelling at the speed of light
towards the illusory,
Cannot help but be pulled towards her blackwhole gravity.
​
Falling into her wisdom, only destroys ignorance and apathy,
Suffering,
in her uncontrived radiance,
Can only atrophy.
​
And these people/beings,
old fans and new,
Will be part of that great stream, of which they are actually a part.
And be carried further down the stream of wisdom—
beyond ‘my’ will,
Into the True will of the heart.
Vishnu, God, Allah, Dao, Universe,
She has been known by 10,000 names and none.
But she remains quiet inside and outside, as the Self.
Her most devoted, by not calling her,
will find vindication in her formless nature,
as excellence and Love itself.
Simply because they loved Truth,
and found her more beautiful,
than anything else.
