“Poetry must suggest the very inef­fability of the object that it attempts to convey: it is a form of the Formless.’ — Patrick Laude ……………………

Go sweep out the chamber of your heart. 
Make it ready to be the dwelling place of the Beloved. 
When you depart out, He will enter it. 
In you, void of yourself, will He display His beauties.

      Mahmud Shabistari

………………………………………… In our being both in and facing the world, we experience the horror of history and the joy of redemption through connection with the Principle. The horror of history manifests itself in conceptions of things with no connection with the Principle, and thus with no meaning. The joy of redemption lies in the discovery of the constant presence in our inner self and the world of the many possible ways in which we can ascend to the Principle, loving it as insufficiently known, but entirely knowable. In this love, we experience none other than union with the Beloved. This is why neither the world nor the self, neither things nor deeds, have any value to us unless they are in a mutual relationship with the Beloved. 


We need to learn again
to listen to the rain the rain
We need to disenstone ourselves
and eyes straight to walk unwavering through the city gate
We need to uncover the lost paths
that pass through the blond grass
We need to caress the poppies and ants
panicking in this plenty of plants
We need to wash ourselves anew
and dream in clean drops of dawn dew
We need to faint away
between the dark tresses of grassy hair
We need to stand a while beside our sun
and grow as tall as our shadow
We need to meet ourown hearts again
that fled so long ago
We need to disenstone ourselves
and eyes straight to walk unwavering thought this stone city’s stone gate
We need to wish with all our might and listen all night to the rain the rain the rigteous rain 

–Rain (Mak Dizdar)

  Poets are metaphysicians in the wild; Christ did not deal with metaphysics, he told parables. Philosophy does not adapt itself to contradictions; it seeks to resolve them as problems. Poetry expresses higher truths, and adapts itself to the appar­ent incoherence. Philosophy regards the world as it would a problem of which the particulars are given, as they are with mathematical problems. The poet is in the world as if in a mystery, is totally involved in it, and one does not resolve mysteries; one remains dazzled by them:’’–Gustave Thibon  ‘One Light’What are “I” and “You”?
Just lattices
In the niches of a lamp
Through which the One Light radiates.
“I” and “You” are the veil
Between heaven and earth;
Lift this veil and you will see 
How all sects and religions are one.
Lift this veil and you will ask—
When “I” and “You” do not exist
What is mosque?
What is synagogue?
What is fire temple?
     — Mahmud Shabistar 


Grief-stricken for my son,
mad-minded, out of my senses,
I was naked with wild hair
and I wandered anywhere.
I lived on trash heaps,
in a graveyard,
and by the highways.
Three years’ wandering,
starved and thirsty.
Then in the city of Mithila
I saw the one who tames
what is untamed
and goes his way in happiness,
enlightened, unafraid.
I came to my senses
paid homage,
and sat down.
Out of compassion,
Guatama taught me the way.
When I heard his words
I set out into homelessness.
By putting his teachings into practice,
I realized great joy.
My grief is cut out,
finished, ended,
for I have understood the ground
from which all grief comes.

–6 BCE Sri Lanka (Therigatha)