Family Letters 76
25th January 1968
At Meherazad Baba’s bard, Francis, sings to Him the songs he makes for Him – songs in which the words tell of the lover’s delight in the Beloved and of the difficulties the lover experiences, in which the melodies so fit the words that the flavour of the words is fully brought out.
Many a song Francis weaves for Him from the sunbeams of Baba’s love.
That his songs may ease the Beloved’s burden to the extent of each refrain.
And at the end of each song Baba tells him, beaming with pleasure, “This is one of the best you have done Francis – this time you have surpassed yourself!” Here is one of the many “best” songs that Francis has sung to Him:
A thousand times I’ve said: what a Beloved You are!
A thousand times I’ve fled from your glances Meher —
Only to return to the shelter of your smile.
Certainty is mine — yet never can I be sure
Save of one thing: one day I will arrive at Nowhere ,
And You will be everywhere. And I shall sing.
On that glad day of Grace when my song has become one note —
The pure note of your Name,
the heavens will tremble
and blush with shame because they caused me to dissemble
before you, beloved Meher.
A thousand times in joy I have set out for your door
hoping you would employ my hands to sweep your floor —
Only to find that you had spread a feast for me.
Certainty is mine — yet never can I be sure
Save of one thing: one day I will arrive at Nowhere
And You will be everywhere. And I shall sing.