Darvish Khan Writes

The Magian Elder has long black curly hair;
His forehead shines with a light that removes all despair.

Zoroaster was the first Avatar since the “big freeze,”
even if to modern learning this is one big huge tease.

It was he in the beginning who called us to his feet;
We were grunting in our bear skins as the ice beat retreat.

The holy fire he brought taught man we live by god alone:
It is by such blazing presence that divine love is known.

Fast forward to our present flickering electronic fire-
the TV we worship now is a squawking satanic choir!

The ice is still melting, sky high chunks many at a time;
We watch the news for the latest about this modern crime.

O Darvish, the Magian Elder, with his long black curly hair
has come back once again as the compassionate Meher.

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“Yezdan, Yezdan” was the intimate breath of Sheriar;
This ancient name was his preserver and protector.

Walking, he would remember the timeless Godman;
As for the world, since a boy he did not give a damn.

The worship of the resurgent sun was his special birthright:
He was born at that time when day triumphs over night.

The sacred flame burning in his heart would never go out;
Day and night were devoted to defeating every doubt.

He was a fakir who had mastered base and dark desire;
The light in his eyes was a pure and matchless fire.

Sheriar’s thirst brought the angel to stand before him;
The waters of heaven filled his cupped hands to the brim.

Never has there been a darvish like the father of God;
This pretender repents that he is no more than a clod!

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The lover with a long curly wig shot me a glance;
this was just the beginning of a risqué romance.

The early light blessed me with a god-awful headache:
my sincerity was much too painful to relate.

What can I say to the raw and bloody uncooked?
Stay away from love unless you wish to be booked!

God forgives all of our embarrassing advances;
try and try to always pursue love’s best chances.

Pigs squeal, dogs howl and man pleads to get some bliss;
the serpent twines around his mate with a sweet hiss.

God help us all to figure out this conundrum:
the more the mind thinks, the more dumb it becomes!

Darvish was laughing and crying about such pain;
repeating the name of god is the best refrain!

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Step after step we track you searching for some sign;
the salt of our tears burns our throat as your sweet wine.

We bear your living presence in our longing heart;
but your curls and dancing eyes we can’t live without.

Farhad dug through rock to one day find his Shireen;
we breathe your name in hope that beauty’s form be seen.

The pale dawn broke and washed the eyes with shards of light:
pain is small coin to pay for the price of such delight.

We know we must renounce the lie of our own fiction;
we know we must die to our every conception.

The master’s warm hand reaches out and touches ours;
each breath is an arti to offer him fresh flowers.

With each step Darvish finds a clue in the wise earth;
breathing, he longs to die and in beauty find rebirth.

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The reluctance to act on truth breaks the spirit;
rage from doubt and fear drives us far, far apart.

Believe all pain from the Rose is but a trial:
know she does scorn and disdain her glib denial!

The status quo above all admires its own huge ass;
it regards its own anusial speech as first class!

Talk and talk and talk will someday bring you to god:
the chairman’s speech will drag you to the land of nod.

Our brother lies dead and his murder is ignored:
talk of embezzlement makes the trustees so bored.

The rose petals drop one by one in bloody red;
so much talk, yet so much more has been left unsaid!

Darvish cries out, where has our bright courage gone?
the real men have departed- we are so alone.

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The awakener of eternal spring is here;
Our frozen feeling is flowing- we have no fear.

Long have we longed for the return of your bright light;
We cry out for that day the heart receives your sight!

Our blindness has been an awful lonstanding curse;
We have been sightseeing from a dark windowless hearse!

Have mercy on our willful infidelity-
release us from our serial stupidity!

That we can’t see you is hardly our special blame;
Life is all darkness unless you ignite your name.

Meher is light and means the compassionate sun;
By the grace of the master we see him alone!

Darvish’s heart is a garden of red roses,
fed by the sweet spring of the beloved’s waters.

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With each breath, the world advances to a sure end;
Not even god’s mercy can our lifespan extend.

When earth’s time is up, the sphere will wobble and fall;
And when we gasp our last, the eyes go still and dull.

Don’t worry about which came first- the chicken or egg;
No matter what happens at the end- do not beg!

The last thought determines the way of the next birth;
Die afraid, you will tremble; the brave will have mirth.

The only important fact of dying is love-
what matters is always the willingness to serve.

No matter what, we all die but god doesn’t care;
Yearn for love like the drowning man panics for air.

May the wheel of birth and rebirth come to an end;
Darvish, only on the master can we depend.

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