That camel there with its calf running behind it, Sutur and Koshek, we are like them, mothered and nursed by where and who we are from, following our fates where they lead, until we hear a drum begin, grace entering our lives, a prayer of gratitude.
We feel the call of God, and the journey changes. A dry field of stones turns soft and moist as cheese. The mountain feels level under us.
Love becomes agile and quick, and suddenly we are there.
This traveling is not done with the body. God’s secret takes form in your loving.
But there are those in bodies who are pure soul. It can happen. These messengers
invite us to walk with them. They say, You may feel happy enough where you are, but we can’t do without you any longer. Please.
So we walk along inside the rose, being pulled like the creeks and rivers are, out from the town onto the plain.
My guide, my soul, your only sadness
is when I am not walking with you.
In deep silence, with some exertion to stay in your company, I could save you a lot of trouble.
Adam A. Azim 