Darvish Khan Writes

This land will heal because of the Master’s and Mehera’s blood
Blessing our earth. From splattered grace springs a sacred flood.

The violent shadow of America blossomed as a bloodied rose,
And was offered as a tribute to genocide and enslaved Negroes.

The cult of the machine demanded the loveliest sacrifice,
And the energy of our greed exacted the cruelest price.

God-Man’s body and his greatest love were smashed by the car;
The lust and anger of our greed will be redeemed by the Avatar.

This land will be convulsed by the pain of our cruel ignorance,
That will one day be healed by the lover and Beloved’s innocence.

Lord and Master, forgive us for we know not what will happen:
We had no idea that progress would result in such terrible sin.

Everywhere the earth is crying for the Eternal Beloved’s pain,
But the pride of man will not yet be humbled for mercy’s gain.

Darvish walks the earth and his feet feel the miraculous cry
Of the insentient for the wounded Beloved who never dies.

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I run from the rotting stench of my precious thought,
But cannot find the pure, sweet breeze of I am not!

The sweet grace of Lord and Master will set me free,
When I submit myself to grace and cease to be.

For now, God help us to learn the high circus arts,
Like how to make a lion laugh and a monkey fart!

Perhaps, the Master will be inclined to believe,
We are useful to his pleasure and deserve reprieve.

We hang out around his court by all contrived means,
(And never with complaint about the refried beans.)

We understand no man has ever petitioned love
Except at beauty’s feet, with the Beloved tall above!

There are few things about which Darvish has no clue:
The most regrettable is how to his foul mind eschew!

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We call out your name as we lift the glass of desire;
Ages have past, but the heart does not burst into fire!

Speech cannot find the words to offer an excuse-
The mind is too busy with the business of refuse.

We fall on our knees and lift our hands high in praise;
We purify our thought of all but you to fill our days.

All plan and purpose have passed away into nothing;
We yearn to hear the Silence that is forever lasting.

The blue sky and green earth meet in some distant place-
Someday, everywhere we will delight in your embrace.

There are mighty seas to cross in ten thousand ships;
But where is the Beloved, and where are her red lips?

Why is it that Darvish’s best friends are bottle and glass?
Her splashing voice and sweet lips cannot be surpassed!

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