Though you have remained aloof we have not sought other shrines;
Rather have we fanned with our sighs the flame that refines.

So it is that although you cover your face from our sight,
Its reflection within our hearts hourly becomes more bright.

When our eyes have been washed with blood we will see you as you really are;
Your named qualities we let others hoist as flags in their holy war.

They will carry the message that they imagine you gave;
For us who know only you there will be no world to save.

Men labor only so long as they do not know that you
Do all, are all, from fiercely shining sun to cooling dew.

You will be their marching and their cry though they will not know it.
And your Grace falls on whomsoever you wish to bestow it.

Though you should remain forever aloof, we have made our choice;
Our tears are your compassion, our sighs are your own sweet voice.


Francis’ burning and world-negating faith makes a strong statement here.

Baba is not an easy prize and the path he offers purifies us with the torment of longing. Our heart are awakened by his absence. Eyes washed with blood points to a shocking reality far from the fatuous praises often addressed to the Almighty. Notice that Francis says later in Stanza 7 that ‘our tears are your compassion’. The blood is God’s, the suffering is His crucifixion.

Francis again seems to scorn social action which is done in ignorance, when it is unaware of the divine presence in all experience.

Baba’s grace falls on whomsoever he wishes to bestow it, yet his lovers do not make demands, having already the knowledge that He is everything and in everything.

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