Contact

(Monterey, ca. 1986)

Hey, seeker    where are you looking?

     Does God have a body?

                                  Certainly.

I will tell you some of His body parts

and their whereabouts, if you really want to know.

It is a body strangely assembled

                                  so pay close attention.

His delicate ears are a hair's breadth from the tip of your tongue.

His eyes are fixed at your fingertips,

                                               every gesture's thought has its Witness.

His feet are right above your head - 

                                           can you feel a light tingling in your scalp?

He is making it so easy to draw near to him!

He has a mouth, you know - 

                                         it is there in the still recesses of your heart.

His finger is on the pulse of your destiny.

Did your mother never tell you of His smile?

                               it was there, at your conception;

    and when you come into Being, it will be sown into your features.

His smile rests on your forehead; when you greet another with love,

                               associating no fault, and speak a kind word - know,

    He is grinning.

                            His laughter is in your belly.

Salaam, or Submission / Submersion

(inspired by Swami Rudrananda)

There is refuge           there - - in the breath,

          draw subtle, deep;            gather yourself        contract, compel

                   your attention inwardly - -

                                    drop anchor

                        and bring your mind to zero.

Let what has already created you      expand.       That

                         wherein self-conscious inhibition dissolves

                               and ego is under command of the Silence.

That is the practice.        Peace     the evidence of practice

                                                is real power.

       Self-proven, relying on no condition,

                     neither does it nurture any taste for drama.

S. Inayat-Chisti, ca. 1986

When Men Drink Ecstasy

(inspired by dhikr with Sheikh Muzaffer, Helveti-Jerrahi)

 Men love power, and God knows it.

       If the Lord and Cherisher of the worlds

       cannot reach men throught he love of Woman alone,

He can reach them through the ecstatic empowerment

       of loving His Names.

Any man who can honestly appreciate a child

       can surrender to God by holding hands

       and rocking in a circle, when the rhythm is right.

Rhythm and melody combine in the art

       of my dervish friends and bring out a passion

       for the finest qualities in oneself.

Profound love for Creation, detail by detail,

       replaces bigotry and angst, and all for a song . . .

That rhythm and that melody are like the soul of a woman,

       but this husky and robust chorus of verses come out of

       the sweet pungent earth of a man’s soul.

Nothing can steal this from his hand,

       nor brutish tendencies come near to it.

It is for him desiring to become Human,

       that the Guest may be entertained in his heart.

S. Inayat-Chisti, ca. 1986

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U6xun1NF8_g

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QDQ6nfWrNVY&feature=results_main&playnext=1&list=PL506A3395CD56A81D

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ka-RSiM2Bjo&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnAQdfvjxA8&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FilGkb0PnUA&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HguWFB5SueE&feature=related

For Mevlana (III)

(or, Love, Harmony and Beauty)

Words, like bears, must hibernate under a wintry blanket

     so they can emerge ready and strong 

                      in the springtime of their revelation

                               and strike squarely on the first blow.

Beauty, the most described thing of all,

    can no more be described than can truth -

           for like truth it is no thing,

                            but living.

In every face I greet my Self,

          for beauty is realized in the strangest ways . . .

                          if I love women

               it is only because they are women;

          if I love men it is only because I am one.

And if pondering my own face I find only beauty,

                 then I am in love with the Friend.

                     It cannot be otherwise.

Inside beauty there is love and harmony,

inside each are found its two companions.

             Without intimate knowledge

             the names we've given them are stale -

                    and within that intimacy

                     names are not needed.

Convention kills, behind every word

        is self-conscious thought.

          Then scrape the words off the page

              and see beauty face to face,

                     describing itself . . .

         Beauty, like silence, meditates on you,

                       restoring joy;

                  you break it in song

                        irresistable

              because you are human.

        And I love this human being.

S. Inayat-Chisti, Berlin, Oct. 1994

Muslim sein / Being a Muslim

Muslim sein

Ich möchte doch kein Muslim sein,

ich esse lieber manchmal Schwein,

und trink' dazu ein Glas Rotwein –

mein Herz bleibt trotzdem ehe rein.

(Schaut Gott im Herzen oder Magen?)

Ich kenn' mein' Bibel und Qur'an,

mir doch egal ob Ramadan,

ob Jom Kippur, ob Weihnachten –

mein Glauben kommt doch eh gut dran.

Ich bete um das Gut' in uns,

und voller Freud' zum allen Gunst,

das Leben ist ein' wahre Kunst.

(So lehrte Buddha die Welt einst.)

Heresie und Tradition,

Katholisch auch und Protestant,

jed' Gottes-Dienst in mir vereint –

denn ich weiß, Gott kennt kein' Feind.

Warum habt ihr kein' Humor?

Habt im Herzen ein Tumor?

Allein die Liebe, heißt das Tor!

Was habt ihr wirklich Bess'res vor?

Richtet nicht, beurteilt nicht,

Mitmenschlisches eu'r wahre Pflicht –

glaubt mir, Gott lässt kein' im Stich –

im Demut findet man das Licht.

Das Licht in jedem einzeln Dasein,

Mensch und Tier (ja, Rind' und Schwein),

Baum, Gewässer, Berg und Bächlein –

in jedem Auge, sucht den Lichtschein!

Wonach ihr sucht, woran ihr spuckt,

liegt im Herz' – geht hin und guckt.

Ein Spiegel ist die Welt – eur' Gluck

liegt drin ganz klar und unbeschmückt.

Dogma und Ideologie

schürt nur weiter Idiotie –

Jungfrau'n im Paradies ein' Phantasie –

denn Gott allein macht satt wie nie.

S.Inayat-Chisti, ca. 00.30., 20.4.11

Being Muslim

I do not wish to be a Muslim,

I'd rather sometimes eat pork,

and drink red wine with that -

my heart remains clean anyway in spite of it.

(Does God look into our heart or our stomach?)

I know my Bible and Qur'an,

it's all the same to me, whether Ramadan,

or Yom Kippur or Christmas -

my faith is none the worse for it.

I pray for the lovingkindness in ourselves,

and joyfully so for the good of all,

living is truly an art.

(So taught Buddha to the world once.)

Heresy and tradition,

Catholic too and Protestant,

every form of worship is unified in me,

because I know that God knows no enemy.

Why don't you have any (sense of) humor?

Have you got a heart tumor?

Love alone is the gate!

What better have you got to offer?

Don't judge, don't divide,
shared humanity is your real duty -
trust me on this, God doesn't leave anyone on a limb -
in humility one finds the light.

The light in every single Being,
human and animal (yeah, cattle and pigs),
tree, water, mountain and brook -
in every eye seek that light!

Whatever you seek, whatever you spit at,
lies in the heart - go there and look.
The world is a mirror - your happiness
lies therein totally clear and unembellished.

Dogma and ideology
stir up only idiocy -
Virgins in Paradise a fantasy -
for God alone satisfies like nothing else.

Was für eine Religion...? / What Kind of Religion...?

(spontan gedichtet, abends während ambulanten spätdienst, nauenerplatz, auf dem 247er bus wartend:)

Was für eine Religion...?

Was für eine Religion ist das denn,

was dir keine Freude verleiht,

damit die Welt deine lächelnde Stirn immer sehen dürfte,

dein vor Menschenliebe strahlendes Herz?

Was für ein Glaube bringt dir keinen Singen bei,

anstatt Brüllen oder verengte Mistrauen in deinem Blick,

                                                   und Nächstenverachtung?

Klar, hat jeder Kummer, wer nicht -

aber mal ehrlich:  hat keiner dir erzählt,

daß Gott Barmherzig heißt, und Gnädig?

...daß er wohl näher zu dir sei als deine Halsschlagader,

                                           näher doch als deine Atmung?

...oder, daß in ihm wir leben, uns bewegen, und unser Dasein haben?

...vielleicht mal, daß er in dir wohnt, zwar als du?

Und ist das denn keine Ursache für Freude?

What Sort of Religion...?

(composed on the spot in German one evening while making my rounds
on foot as a visiting nurse, in a heavily Turkish, working class district
where I also live - and where one finds, the more "traditional" ... 
the longer the face)

What sort of religion is that then,

that lends you no joy

wherewith the world may see your smiling forehead,

your heart radiating love for Humankind?

What sort of faith teaches you no singing

instead of shouting or that tight-assed mistrust in your glance,

and contempt toward the "other"?

Sure, everybody has woes, who doesn't -

but honestly now:  has no one ever told you

that God's name is compassionate and merciful?

. . . that He is indeed nearer to you than your jugular vein,

nearer indeed than your breath?

. . . or that in Him we live and move and have our Being?

. . . perhaps even once, that He dwells within you, actually as you ?

And is that then no cause for joy?

S. Inayat-Chisti, Berlin, 14 Dec. 2005

Cornerstone of Your Faith

Gratitude gives latitude when attitude allows you

                                                                 to nurture Space -

Taking this deeply to Heart, you let it impart
                                                           life-bestowing Grace.

There is a well, easy to stand in, I have been there;

its waters are deep, they carry an atmosphere
                                                          like no other.

It is the Heart-Source of the Prophet, he told me so,

that late-summer night in a field west of al-Quds:

SING! Bismillah ir-rahman ir-rahim!

SING! In the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Beloved!

This is the very Cornerstone of Qur'an!

This, he said, "the Balm for the Arab masses," the antidote

to every vain pride, to all bigotry, to male aggression -

ir-rahman ir-rahim, compassionate, merciful -

whose shared root means Womb:
                                     that should tell us something.

If you don't yet know "In the Name of God,
                                     the Compassionate, the Merciful" -

to which you pay cynical lip-service
                                                       and reject its Guidance -

then you are not yet ready for "Allahu-akbar,"
                                                                God is Most Great -

which you use as a bludgeon out of primitive motives

rather than a sword to cut through your ignorance.

You reject the Balm vouchsafed from the
                                                            Prophet's own breast,

embracing instead that Bomb strapped to your own chest,

as you enter the crowd in the marketplace.

BREATHE "In the Name of God,
   Most Gracious, Most Merciful," with every step you take!

WALK "Bismillah ir-rahman ir-rahim,"
                                                  with every breath you draw!

Let it fill your atmosphere - give,
                                              abandon yourself to it utterly -

after all, God knows, it is your own true nature.

Let it carry you beyond hope and fear into certainty

                                             as no ideology can ever impart;

let it deliver you of your devisive judgemental loathing,
arrogant piety, with a Lovingkindness which opens
all doors and quietly overwhelms the world before you!

I see you on the street, self-isolated in your narrow-minded
     macho pride, your cherished anger worn on your sleeve -

                           "in the Name of God," you say,
               "the Compassionate, the Merciful" - as you butcher
     your own sister for wanting to determine her own life!
or you shoot her in the face, abetted by the family,
to uphold an "honor" which the Prophet
                                                       would find truly puzzling!

A twisted blasphemy this,
                       using the Cornerstone of the Faith to justify
                     political and every other self-serving agenda!

Behold:  when a wicked tribe rejected
   the Prophet's Message, scorned him and drove him out,
                                              scattering thorns in his path,

he recited only "Bism'illah ir-rahman ir-rahim"
                                                   with each prick and insult -

now it is you who scatter the thorns before the Prophet

by rejecting the Compassionate, the Merciful in favor
of cloying self-pity, of internecine blood-letting,
               and of ideological tyranny.

Whenever Religion becomes the property of bigotry,

whenever Faith is measured in fanatical scorn -

there is the Muslim Islam's own worst enemy,

there are the prophets stoned in the square.

SAY:  In the Name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful,
           and mean it, learn to be grateful for your existence!

SING:  Bism'illah ir-rahman ir-rahim, and behold the simple
          everyday glory of God's own deft Hand
       working through you, blessing and cherishing you,
               and the ground you walk on!

You want honor?  Then always honor the One Self in all.

You want influence?  Good, then don't ever
                                    take your next breath for granted.

Remembering God for His own sake
           relieves you of poverty-mind:  always let
   the majesty and dignity of your Noble Lord and Cherisher
 overwhelm you, and join it - acknowledging, after all,

                                         that He dwells within you as you.

Go now, and make yourself a fragrant gift to the world,

a reflection of Paradise Here and Now, and in Reality.

- S. Inayat-Chisti, Berlin, Nov. 2005