Reflections of the Dawn

I stood upon the crest of the
highest mountain,
Calling down to those who dared
to follow
That I had attained the greatest
of heights.
But a voice from above called out
to me:
‘Rest not upon your foolish pride
for you have taken but a single step.
And as you await those to come,
there are those that patiently wait
for you.’

I was alone unto myself,
content within the stillness of the sleeping forest,
when he arose from out of the glowing embers of my fire,
and filled the darkened sky as he smiled upon the night.
And thus are the words he silently spoke
unto my soul:

I ask not for your understanding,
but only your quiet acceptance.
I seek not your respect,
but only the unsung song of your heart;
For lonely is the flower of my soul
and still are the nights upon my ears.
And as I stand in the silence of time,
none save the mountains shall ever understand me;
For they too have bled from the depths
of their rocky souls.

A thousand lifetimes have passed since
my Passion first spoke unto me these words:
‘Go forth and speak that which is locked
within the timelessness of your soul and trust
the listener to understand.’

But the voice of my Wisdom answered:

‘It would be better, perhaps, to leave the Truth unsaid;
For the listener shall hear your words that clothe the Truth,
but will not see through the veil of their disguise.’

And hearing this caused my Passion to cry,
for he knew that Wisdom always spoke with
an enlightened reason;
And my Wisdom wept also, for there was no joy
in being right at his brother’s expense.
So now I come unto you that the thirst of my soul
be quenched and Truth be unveiled before the
eyes of this world.

 Be still, and you shall hear the distant
thunder of yet a storm unknown.
Quietly watch, and you shall see the shadows fall
from footprints across the sky.
And rejoice within your heart as the Gardener of the earth,
Planter of your soul returns, for long were the days
of rootless weeds starving the Life from His planted garden.
And bitter was the darkness that befell the bloomless rose.
Only after this earth has been bathed in its holy baptism
shall it become the glorious garden it was truly meant to be.

Excerpts from ‘The Prophet’s Candle‘ by Daniel



(Contemporary Spiritual Poets)      (Spiritual Poets)