Man and I are sweethearts He craves me and I long for him, but alas! Between us has appeared a rival who brings us misery. She is cruel and demanding, possessing empty lure. Her name is Substance. She follows wherever we go and watches like a sentinel, bringing restless to my lover. I ask for my beloved in the forest, under the trees, by the lakes. I cannot find him, for Substance has spirited him to the clamorous city and placed him on the throne of quaking, metal riches. I call for him with the voice of Knowledge and the song of Wisdom. He does not harken, for Substance has enticed him into the dungeon of selfishness, where avarice dwells. I seek him in the field of Contentment, but I am alone, for my rival has imprisoned him in the cave of gluttony and greed, and locked him there with painful chains of gold. I call to him at dawn, when Nature smiles, but he does not hear, for excess has laden his drugged eyes with sick slumber. I beguile him at eventide, when Silence rule, and the flowers sleep. But he responds not for his fear over what the marrow will bring shadows his thoughts. He yearns to love me; he asks for me in his own acts. But he will find me not except in Gods acts. He seeks me in edifices of his glory which he has built upon the bones of others; he whispers to me from among his heaps of gold and silver; but he will find me only by coming to the house of Simplicity which God has built at the brink of the stream of affection. He desires to kiss me before his coffers, but his lips will never touch mine except in the richness of the pure breeze. He ask me to share with him his fabulous wealth, but I will not forsake Gods fortune; I will not cast off my cloak of beauty. He seeks deceit for medium; I seek only the medium of his heart. He bruises his heart in his narrow cell; I would enrich his heart with my love. My beloved has learned how to shriek and cry for my enemy, Substance; I would teach him how to shed tears of affection and mercy from the eyes of his soul for all things, and utter sighs of contentment through those tears. Man is my sweetheart; I want to belong to him. - Khalil Gibran Song of Fortune It has been decades since this was written. Although progress has been made, for the true sensitive longing to unite with the god-mind in the embrace of the Divine Mind this obstacle to true love named Substance which Gibran speak on is still real and a threat to the collective unified consciousness. But by reading this poem there is hope because to know where you are going you must know where you been.
Posted on: Sat, 08 Mar 2014 06:57:08 +0000
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