Three Poets For Saturday…

Creation’s Witness

At time’s beginning

that beauty

which polished creation’s mirror

caressed every atom

with a hundred thousand suns.

But this glory

was never witnessed.

When the human eye emerged,

only then was he known.

-Abdul-Qader Bedil


This entry is based on what I placed in my Poetry Sanctuary out front of Caer Llwydd this morning. I find as much pleasure in sharing these as I do in most anything. Every two days, I search out across my books, or the internet and locate poems that fit my mood (or not)… I on occasion will see someone stop and read them. More often than not, Sofie our dog while sitting on the porch will start making a racket… I will look out, and there will be someone reading, usually with a dog hence Sofie giving voice.

It has been a cool week here in Portland. Rain, clouds and early morning breezes. I wake up at 5:00am and go back to sleep. No discipline once more. I have been going through one of those “can’t focus for all the white noise of computer, thoughts, schedules etc. I bog down lately when the stimuli gets overwhelming… I need to cut back a bit it seems…

Anyway, Poetry. I realized/remembered that it has always been there in my life. As I progressively race towards my oblivion, the poets viewpoint becomes so much more focused in my mind’s eye. Poetry is a bridge, one of the bridges to eternity. Within the cadences, you hear and feel the rhythms of the pulse of the universe. We are not cut off at all from creation, we just ignore it due to our ignorance, and the noise factor. Inside, deep inside we move as one with all that there is. When we give voice to it, it speaks in oracular forms. Every poem has a hint of it, sometimes more.

We have been blessed, we are blessed, and we bless with our presence in the eternal now…

Here is to you, in this moment of Love and Bliss,



Three Poets For Saturday

I became water

and saw myself

a mirage

became an ocean

saw myself a speck

of foam

gained Awareness

saw that all is but


woke up

and found myself



A mystic is one

who passes away –

He abides in the essence

of that which is Real.

Such a person is pure,

clear wine without dregs.

Now whole, he displays

the Most Beautiful Names.

– Binavi Badakhshani –


So what if love’s idol is hidden? One’s heart will never be far away.

My guide lives many mountains away, but he is visible before me.

Whoever has one grain of love is drunk without wine.

They are true mystics, Bahu, whose graves are alive.

I knew God well when love flashed before me

I knew God well when love flashed before me.

It gives me strength by night and day, and shows what lies ahead.

In me are flames, in me is fuel, in me is smoke.

I only found my Beloved, Bahu, when love made me aware.

– Sultan Bahu –


The eternal mysteries,

following wisdom’s lead,

brought forth

the human form

as their living proof.

As long as the drop

hadn’t emerged from the sea,

the ocean

didn’t notice

the depths of its splendor.

– Abdul-Qader Bedhil –


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