Thursday, December 24, 2009

The Inn

There are many idols I worship
All rewarding me with fear
Promising it is best this way
That the fears won’t further come near

But

My Lord promises Freedom
Says being His guest I needn’t worry
That He will take good care

So he teaches me the ways of the Inn
And as I learn of decorum
I learn the royal heritage and my potential
Reminded but again to leave the worry to the powerful Host

At the Inn I meet other travelers
All of them guests, each cared for
In what I learn I find I ought,
Give these travelers a nod and the one a wink

Courtesy is a rule here at the Inn
By which the Rabb Promises to teach us
secrets of the heart they say by which
Gradually unravels all the potential within

But to think a fellow traveler or object important
In measure greater than his due
Is to raise an idol and begin an ill

That to cross beyond courtesy into
Servility or cross into Oppression
Is making unto a traveler an Idol
For there is need for neither at the Inn

The idol raised belongs to a tribe they call “NEEDINESS”;
All darkness is legacy of this neediness
The decorum is to break these idols
That to treat each traveler or thing
With courtesy they are due, not more, nor less

In seeking assistance I hear His words
I am guest and must worry less
That this neediness is born out only of distance from the Host

But the heart of a momin they say can contain Him
My heart one day too would contain Him
Were I to leave all concern for my care to the Host
I need first connect and then move closer still

In nearness to Him is nearness to all at the Inn
Which we perpetually learn is made benign
And we, all of us, are the royalty within

So let’s us be overwhelmed I say
Feel an inner expansion thus to compliment Him,
For the boundless mysteries and generosity
With which He hath prepared this Inn

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