another poem

This afternoon my teacher Diana came up to me before the start of class with a book outstretched in her hand. "I wanted to share a poem with you that I've been reading this week, which has to do with this idea of the teacher looking for the student as much as the student looking for the teacher." She left the book with me and walked away. I read it and felt tears begin to sting my eyes. I felt grateful. The poem is as follows:

Bring the Man to Me:

A Perfect One was traveling through the desert.
He was stretched out around the fire one night
And said to one of his close ones,

"There is a slave loose not far from us.
He escaped today from a cruel master.
His hands are still bound behind his back,
His feet are also shackled.

I can see him right now praying for God’s help.
Go to him.
Ride to that distant hill;
About a hundred feet up and to the right
You will find a small cave.
He is there.

Do not say a single world to him.
Bring the man to me.
God requests that I personally untie his body
And press my lips to his wounds."

The disciple mounts his horse and within two hours
Arrives at the small mountain cave.

The slave sees him coming, the slave looks frightened.
The disciple, on orders not to speak,
Gestures toward the sky, pantomiming:

God saw you in prayer,
Please come with me,
A great Murshid* has used his heart’s divine eye
To know your whereabouts.

The slave cannot believe this story,
And begins to shout at the man and tries to run
But trips from his bindings.
The disciple becomes forced to subdue him.

Think of this picture as they now travel:

The million candles in the sky are lit and singing.
Every particle of existence is a dancing alter
That some mysterious force worships.

The earth is a church floor whereupon
In the middle of a glorious night
Walks a slave, weeping, tied to a rope behind a horse,
With a speechless rider
Taking him toward the unknown.

Several times with all of his might the slave
Tries to break free,
Feeling he is being returned to captivity.
The rider stops, dismounts—brings his eyes
Near the prisoner’s eyes.

A deep kindness there communicates an unbelievable hope.
The rider motions—soon, soon you will be free.
Tears roll down from the rider’s cheeks
In happiness for this man.

Anger, all this fighting and tormenting want,
Mashuq,**
God has seen you and sent a close one.

Mashuq,**
God has seen your heart in prayer
And sent Hafiz.

*Murshid - Persian: teacher
**Mashuq – Persian: sweetheart