Poem 30
A gem of a poem; it is about the transformation that takes place when all is left to the Beloved. It conveys something of the wonder and beauty of what is being offered to us.
At its beginning we are given the contrast between the beauty of nature and life in the world of human experience. There is also a contrast between youthful singing and the chastened wisdom of maturity.
In His loving mercy the Beloved shows why the passage through time is a necessity. He bears upon Himself the marks of the suffering of Love.
The knots of our sanskaras are too green to be untied. The binding must be cut through we are memorably told, ‘Only the tug-of-war sawing across perspectives will saw it through’.
Miraculously this tug-of-war is exactly what is accomplished through the poem. The long struggle of our efforts is contrasted with the freely given acceptance to all who surrender. By the end of the poem the opening contrasts are reconciled and harmonized.
Firstly the Beloved explains it is not out beautiful fitness of purpose that makes us preferred. It is solely through our remembrance of Him that brings us to Him. But, says the poet, I have remembered you millions of times through ‘your name’. Then the moment of revelation, the poet (us) has done nothing, all is done by Him. And the burden of time is suddenly lifted, in an enactment which poetry is capable of producing. Humans are renewed with nature in the new time.
I remember in spring the paddocks were full of wild flowers.
Today the streets are full of faces. The first singing hours
Lengthened into years, and years were journeys. I returned chastened.
And Love, who had been seeking me from the doorway of time, hastened
Up to me and stood by my side. On his breast was a rose tattooed by spears,
And His feet were blistered by millions of lovers’ molten tears.
He said: One cannot untie the knots of revolt; the rope is too new.
Only the tug-of-war sawing across perspectives will fray it through.
He said: There are fishes scaled with precious stones, and animals slow as smoke and swift as fire —
Yet they will not be preferred before you if you make your Beloved your only desire.
I said: Millions of times have I remembered your name, each time making it new.
He smiled: That only shows how many times I have remembered you!
Then I came out into the street of faces innocent as flowers.
For journeying was done — and the years shortened again into hours.