Ghazal Written While Setting Out on a Trip: Begun on a Train and Finished in an Uber
Departing on a trip—though life is always in motion!
Geographical excursions, a more concrete experience of that notion.
I want to see new things—because, at home, I don’t have new eyes.
Exotic rhythms and places become a kind of magical potion.
Wherever I am, I take Your Holy Name to stay in the here and now,
Even with such Divine Medicine—watch out for Maya’s commotion!
What lies in store in these next five days, on this going?
As if we ever know on any day, where we’ll end up in life’s ocean!
The world is always moving—the Beloved, the only real constant.
The lover’s only protection is the depth of his devotion.
The world is His Ashram; in the tropics, Nature is His Art.
The plan: to return home and work with refreshed emotions.
Max, what you’re saying about uncertainty is true! It was just proven!
During this very writing, the train broke down and we passengers
had to scramble and find new means of locomotion!
Travels
Sitting in the open-air foyer
of the Hilo Bus Station,
roof but no front or back walls,
at 4:45 in the morning
waiting to ride to Kona Airport
for my flight back to the mainland.
The rain on the roof so pleasant.
A pleasant way to leave
this lovely island,
its patter like music
of a gentle steel drum.
What can I say about
these little dreams I live out,
these summer excursions
all over the world?
New sights, vibrant pathways,
exotic tastes, smells, sounds:
then over like any dream.
Last night in my little room,
collapse of the dream,
despair that this trip
was a vain indulgence.
But no: I believe
every perception of Beauty,
every startled Awakening
helps everyone everywhere!
The awe at being surrounded
by dense jungle layered intricately,
woven by Nature’s miraculous,
meticulous hand…
Wandering down a path
at Volcano National Park
to a turn-off sign
that said “Eruption Viewing,”
then downhill 100 feet to a railing,
and looking out at the crater of Kilauea:
smoking, mighty, alive,
so foliage-hidden I hadn’t
suspected its presence.
Suddenly whisked back
to the dawn of Creation!
This coming year,
when I’m playing music for children,
having dinner with Barbara,
or making a comment on Facebook
these travels will add
to my presence
colours, music, mysteries
that I’m not even aware of.
Resolution After Returning Back Home From a Journey
I’m back In the saddle,
the saddle of my life,
the life that I left for five days
and went a world away.
I want to return to this life
whose rounds are waiting for me
like an old friend,
but make it a new life
and just know that the gifts
of the journey I went on,
which was a sort of pilgrimage
for refreshment and creative inspiration,
these treasures I’ve returned with,
I may not always be conscious of
because they go in deep—
but they will be with me
and trust that I have the tools
to retain the Inspiration,
and that this is now the place to be,
the locus of forward motion,
of loving service and of
the presence of the Beloved.
Beloved, You are with me here
and I need You here.
You are my Higher Self.
I’ve been practicing the mantra,
“I am a part of the Infinite
and the Infinite God is within me.”
That is the axiom
upon which this new life
must be based.
If the situations I find myself in
do not seem “perfect”,
then it is up to me
to provide the Inspiration,
up to the Higher Self in me
to bring out the Sacredness.
And in that way
all is made Sacred,
all is recognized as Sacred,
And even in this seemingly fallen world
we live in, with the kind of temporal “news”
that comes our way every day:
ALL IS RESURRECTED!
Samaritan
I sat in the front row of the bus that left Hilo in the rain at 5 a.m. for Kona, across the Big Island, to catch my plane back home. As I’d boarded the big bus, the driver, a thin man with a pockmark-scarred face, wearing the red-and-white flower shirt of the Free Hele Transit Company (which really was free), had asked, “Where are you going?” and when I’d said, “Kona Airport,” simply made a check on his clipboard.
Soon he pulled out into the dark, headlights showing the way. Before long we were travelling along a road with frequent curves and dense rainforest on both sides. Now and then we’d see the bright lights of a work crew up ahead, even this early, and the driver would slow down and thread his way along a gauntlet of orange cones slightly wider than the bus.
From time to time, he’d pull over to pick up people waiting by the roadside. There wasn’t enough light for me to even see them until they’d boarded. He greeted each one with a bright smile and a warm good morning. Each new passenger looked up and returned the greeting with a smile before continuing up the aisle to find a seat. I gradually realized there were relationships here—he drove this route every day.
On the other side of the island—it was light now—the bus began repeatedly leaving the main road, travelling as much as a mile each time down narrow side roads, and finally pulling up in a parking lot of a big resort with a name like Four Seasons or Hilton. Departing passengers had risen and waited patiently in the centre aisle until the bus was stationary, to exit and go to work. They were the maids, waiters and grounds-crew workers who kept the place going. Some were 50 miles from home, and would return on the evening bus.
To each person or small group de-boarding, the driver flashed his bright smile and his warm, “Have a good day now! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Once again, each would smile back and some would murmur a quiet farewell. It was reminiscent somehow of a Mom dropping off a child at school—beaming love for that dear one to carry through the day, a reminder that he or she matters.
“I love the way you care for your people!” I told the driver before exiting at the airport stop. Hearing my words, his face relaxed into an almost ecstatic expression.
“That’s why I do this!” he said, and flashed that same brilliant smile to me.
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images: Max Reif
