“My Soul, strangered with thy oath, has been led astray…”

Hymn

I will praise any man,
That praises me.
I will raise any man,
That raises me.
I will shake his hand,
And I’ll sing “praise be”,
I will declare the blessings
That the blessings may be!

This world’s illusions
Are a strange kind of sleep,
Its problems and dilemmas
Rooted so deep.
But thy terrestrial tasks
Must one day be done,
And thy race against time
Must one day be won.

From the tender bleat
Of the blithesome doe,
To the throaty caw
Of the wily crow.
A speaker of tongues
Yet speaker of none;
Behind the many,
The voice of but one!

Take my immortal longings,
Shape them into a crown
Put the crown on my head
And lay me down.
Take my fears and my sorrows
Down to the sea,
My yesterdays and tomorrows,
And set them all free!

I will praise any man
That praises me.
I will raise any man
That raises me.
I will shake his hand,
And I’ll sing “praise be”,
I will declare the blessings,
That the blessings may be!

Haiku Sequence;

The Tinkerer’s Cart

a world of scorched earth,
a single dandelion
catching my eye!

there’s a mystery deep inside;
he died a thousand deaths
yet lives!

as sweet as summer rain;
the rhythmic plucking of a bowed lute
in a dark recess

early morning,
her face like sunlight;
gazing into his eyes!

the muffled clatter
of pots, kettles and pans;
the tinkerer’s cart approaching…

The Lord of Thieves

Down by the river the young bride pines,
Wiping away tears quietly shed.
Alone at the altar, dressed to the nines,
She knows deep inside she never will wed!

She foolishly fell for a handsome thief;
Left all she once had and knew to be true.
And in his arms sought relief,
From all of the fears she’d failed to subdue.

“Fine knaves one and all, with their swords and their greaves,
Surrender their wills, according to my pledge,”
With a wink and a smile, said the Lord of Thieves;
“And so live their lives on a razor’s edge!”

“Not each and every day will rhyme,
Whether we shape or accept our outcomes preset;
As we traverse the awful gulf of time,
Between what we want and eventually get!”

“Did he run far away, did he get cold feet?
Is he dangling from the gallows at the end of some rope?
Is this the final crushing defeat
To bring me to heel and give up all hope?”

“As the Lord of Thieves ‘tis not my concern,
A handful of silver is all I must cede.
Why should I care should fools crash and burn?
Why should I care for hearts that bleed?

I do everything to keep you amused,
And prevent you from meeting yourself as you are.
I do everything to keep you confused,
And your eye from wandering both near and afar.

Thus emburdened you enter, bloodied and wan,
Unaware of the ways you’ve been secretly blessed;
Only when all hope is finally gone…
Do I step aside and make way for the Guest!”

13 08 2025

I thought it may be useful to anyone interested to add some clues as to the meanings I am alluding to in this poem.

The “Lord of Thieves” is a reference to the Being that is the Lord of this world, (and all other worlds premised on the ever-shifting movement between negative and positive, or dual polarities).

The “pledge” referred to is this Being’s undertaking to the spiritual hierarchy to keep Soul blinded to Its true nature. It does this mainly through encouraging attachment to various enticements it offers up, all of an illusory and temporary nature.

“The Guest” is another term used by Rumi, for “the Friend”, who guides Soul out of the labyrinth of the world and its entrapments. The Lord of Thieves steps aside when Soul finds the Friend and entrusts his spiritual welfare to him. This Being, aka the Inner Master, is not an intermediary between Soul and God, but a wayshower. He may take different forms acceptable to the individual.

Haiku Sequence

The Bottom of the Well

the parting gift;
a priceless jewel, to be
treasured or thrown away

the wailing of the bells;
a blind knife thrower and
the woman who loves him

alone in the frosty night,
the crying naked officer;
lost what he’d found again

moaning in the bottom
of the well; this longing
I have for you!

around midnight,
a company of five deer
grazing on the lawn

The Road of Farewells

widow’s braid,
three feet and counting-
lopped off at the root!

winter sea,
white waves breaking against black cliffs;
the road of farewells

flickering,
the last glimmer of a dying lamp;
the mortal self

these last hours,
and everything that transpires;
a blank page

a living stillness,
watching the world as if from
a distant star…

when dawn breaks
and the sky clears,
the dust of the past rises,
then slowly falls away…

The Blind Bird

Lo and behold, what do we have here?
A bird on a branch, and that, so near!
O’ bird, o’ bird, why do you not fear?
O’ bird, o’ bird, what brought you here?

’Twas then the bird turned, and looked straight at me,
’Twas then that I realised the bird could not see!
And yet it did speak, and most eloquently,
With the strangest and most compelling melody!

It sang for an hour, or was it day?
In a language unknown, from some land far away;
And all that it told and sought to convey,
Poured into my heart as it held me there, sway!

Now, down through the years with that bird long gone,
I’ve come to understand the meaning of its song;
How when lightning struck and rendered it blind,
That creature had to leave the world behind!

It had to uncover a new way to be,
It had to discover a new way to see.
How to move through this world, yet still remain free
To depend on its instincts and so foresee!

It had had to rely on some deep inner sense,
It had had to avoid endless nonsense.
It had had to let go of past and future tense,
To dwell in the moment and never sit on the fence!

Now at times throughout my mundane day,
Strains of that song with my senses do play;
Pulling at my heart, it says, “Don’t delay!”
It soothes my poor mind, my fears to allay!

Sometimes I wake in the dead of black night,
And find myself back in that land of clear sight;
I shake off my sleep, and surrender my plight,
And in these bright moments… all things are made right!

24 05 2025

seeds quietly sown;
love leaves no trace
except upon the heart