1 MEHER BABA
The mind retreats to the antecedents:
Krishna, Arjuna's servant and master, Radha's lover;
Rama, good king and loyal husband;
Jesus, son of Mary, master of miracle ―
But these do not explain you.
Some thing I notice:
Your photographs, perfectly posed;
Your fingers, moving like butterflies'.
Your eyes, talking with gaiety or reproach:
Hands, polished by caressing ―
But these do not contain you.
In a rage for your name
The epithets accumulate:
Ancient One, Highest of High,
God-Man, Avatar, Christ,
Rasool, Qutub-i-Irshad, Beloved ―
But these could never name you.
Blind before your reality,
We grope towards your light
As men who have lived in caves
Would stumble in the sun.
The pure heart is a mirror for your love ―
Could it be that even you cannot know yourself
Till you see who you are
In the faces of those who love you?