NEW YEAR WISH - OR JUST WISH And may I have more to time to write humble, even more to feel humble, and more still to be humble - and in love - every hour, with every breath, with every one,with everything. My love and humility grow within me into surges I can no longer hold back even to stay breathing and alive. Let me die of too much love, too much humility, too much happiness in others joy. May I find the feet of my mother again - where heaven walked step by step, rhyming aspiration and inspiration with passion and compassion. May she bring back the love I lost out in the world, in my vane pursuits - a sort of climbing in which every step gained was in height reduced me in size, till even atop the highest mountains I became a pygmy. May she come back and restore to my size to its stature which I was born to scale. May she come and restore me to the man her son was meant to be. And may this pain diminish in the year ahead, and years after that. May I regain the art I lost in the market place to walk the valleys of grace and piety and compassion and charity and love. May i learn again at her feet, or pressing my lips close to the dust which once glowed and expanded beneath her feet - may that grass give to me again the grace to accept help from the humblest beggar and the courage to give off all that I have and can give to whoever seeks it in love.And the wisdom to know that if I want truly to give to those that need what I give, then not the greatest king and ruler nor the wealthiest ,richest among men has possess in his hand what I possess. For a hand never gives of its own. What a hand gives comes to it from heart, and the heart of the poorest of the poor when filled with love and joy of giving is never emptied. The treasures of heart have neither walls nor roof nor bottom: they are boundless for they flow from nowhere to everywhere.. May i have the wisdom to see how rich beyond measure is my inheritance if I but want to give in love to those who in need have the grace to receive - or to anyone. And may I have to the eyes to see that the inheritance that was put in my tiny fist at the time of birth had the nature of infinity. To know my inheritance,I have travelled wide. I have visited the wards in city hospitals and seen men and women, young and old, infant and child, writhing with ugly unbearable pain that stinks so foul even the Christian frowns and thrusts to their noses unclean handkerchiefs. Disease has no dignity - neither human nor brutal disgraceful disease.My nostrils have fought over what they had to take - gangrenes rot so foul even gods angels would stay away. In my inheritance was put freedom since birth for me and for my child and kin from gangrene and leprosy and cancer and neither the mangled entrails of what is hidden beneath my belly nor the sight of brain blown inside out with an unknown enemys bombs.Freedom also from handicaps in limb or mind - and freedom so wide its hard to put in one simple love letter to life. And I have been to to centers where addicts crouch and their parents wait outside. And prison cells and houses of poverty. I have travelled wide and now I can see my inheritance and see how little did I do for it to be mine. May this inheritance, this legacy never be forgotten.May i also remember that not everyone has the legacy to thank this earth, and yet they crib not like I have always done,and always do, May I learn not to crib, and learn not to nag nature and life. May i learn some gratitude too. Also learn from the memory of what I forgot that the thorn in my heart was put there to take out with blood the poison that has made it its abode. May I have the strength in my heart and my arm to bring down those columns of malice and spleen.May I defeat that pride in self of which malice and hatred are born. May I not shirk suffering. May pain purify. And yet may I not fall in love with either pain and suffering. Because the surgeons tool must be put away after malignancy has been taken out. Because otherwise , in time, even the surgeons knife can infect the purest part. Let suffering and pain be the scissors and the knife, which , having opened and closed the wound,must be put away - and secured. But never loved. These and many more wounds that sing as prayers may rise and hug the skies. And the skies may glance towards the valley and softly drop a little smile. May I have the eyes to see that smile and the wisdom to understand it and the heart to smile back. May these days and hours and minutes that move as on a conveyer belt in front of me carry to me the freshness of a brave new dawn every hour, every minute. A dawn that washes the vale clean of the sooty dark. May the birds chirp again as the sniff a dawn again, even as the sun prepares to climb its gentle last lap up the east.May waterfalls start their hum and nightingale its song. May this music rid me of centuries and centuries of darkness and of sin , and of pride and vane cries of constant complaint. May I learn not to nag the dawn nor bitterly quarrel with noon nor evenings spoil with blazing vanity. May love return and with love, humility and grace and above all the wisdom to be worthy of them all. May mother return in her white grace and her warmth. But even before she returns, may I this time be worthy.May I acquire the wisdom not to judge. And now ,mother, once again, in your lap,let a new God create a new world. And the body, your body, that you and I had seen off on that day when I cried and yu consoled with silence -let that body retain its dignity in our forgetfulness.
Posted on: Sat, 27 Dec 2014 23:06:32 +0000
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