Nizam Rose

(Editor's Note: This moving reflection on the Easter Tridentine would typically be published with the season of the year. There is another season, the heart's season, where the great mysteries are alive in every moment. In that spirit we present Nizam Rose's powerful poem, On This Day.) 
__________

On This Day

on this day

glorious voices from our beloved africa

raise up my spirits

though never forgetting that it is a

paradox that creates such beauty

while shots fire and villages

burn to the ground leaving

a foul smell and broken bodies, broken hearts.

on this day

we remember the mother's milk

that fed our savior, our spirit,

though never forgetting that

in the dark, war-torn east,

those same breasts are cut

from the chests of african women,

a 'statement' that they would nourish life no more.

on this day

we hear the nails, we see the face in anguish

we feel the blood spattered upon our faces

as the master is sent on that final journey

from this world to that,

never forgetting the millions of our

brothers and sisters in africa,

enduring the plague of aids,

ancients, babes, mothers, fathers, friends.

on this day

we watch the sky, so blue, untouched

by ought save the sun's light

never forgetting that under the same\

blue sky, our african family stares

hopelessly waiting for rain

on this day

we purify ourselves

as our lord's body was washed

after agonies finally ceased

never forgetting that the rivers

run dry, the desert grows

in our beloved africa

on this day

the sound of spring birds

both weeping and celebrating

the renewal of life given by

body and blood so precious,

never forgetting the same cries

and laughter of children still innocent

in our beloved africa.

nizami

good friday, 2007

__________

a journey

when i first came to the desert

i saw it clearly,

an endless ocean of sands

drifting. walking eastward into the rising sun

was peaceful, silent, yet full.

i was well wrapped, knew my

destination, knew my lord..

silence and peace remained

my companions during the first days,

until i found east had become west,

light into darkness, and the sky filled with sand.

inside my makeshift tent i waited for

the howling storm to abate. i was there

for a long time, sleeping and praying.

as silence fell once again, i came out

into the open, into a new world.

the light was so bright i could not see,

and thus continued in a wayward direction

tempted by thoughts of sweet water

and the touch of warm oil soothing my skin

despite all, my lips cracked, water supply

dwindled,my mind began to wander

from the light into the darkness where i could not

hear my lord's voice.

i began to hear another voice,

sweet and long desired

calling to me, calling for me.

in the distance my eyes created

a pearl-like marble palace

where trees and water beckoned

parched, half-crazed, i ran

toward it, the whispers still

inviting me with promises

of rest, sustenance and

pleasures undreamed of.

arriving, i ran through the

needle's eye, ecstatic.

i jumped into the fountain

was surrounded by beauties

that served me with fresh

viands and sated my desires.

for forty days i remained thus,

until my lord took pity upon me

and unveiled the truth of this vista.

i lay covered in my own filth

in a puddle fouled by

carrion seeking animals who ventured

to that spot. a scraggly date palm

had given up its sour fruit that i had

taken for sweet meats and delicious ices.

for three days i wept in self pity, shame

and rage at myself, at my lord, at myself.

finally i slept, drained of tears, sweat, emotion.

in the morning, i woke to find myself clad in

clean, fresh garments with a water bag, dried fruit

and goat cheese to sustain me. i tasted and drank

sparingly, made prayers of repentance and gratitude,

and once again turned east, chastened,

but with renewed courage to reach that place

i knew as home.

nizami

holy saturday, 2007

__________

into the light of peace

waking on cold stone

in a cave where i sought refuge

from the winds and rains of the night

a fragrant smell, the sweet sound of bells,

a holy light surrounded me,

has the journey ended?

this seems unlikely, and yet

the same simple cotton on my skin,

the water bag and provisions lay next to me.

it might be a dream, of course. on the

long journey across the desert many dreams

had come bearing signs of the deeper peace

i sought.

a prayer to lord ganesha to remove

obstacles was whispered into my ear -

a prayer of thanks for bounty of body, heart

and soul that makes peace possible.

in a troubled dream, while i sat quietly, i heard

the words of he who taught the way to freedom

from suffering, "Now this triple world, all is my domain;

the living beings in it - all are my children.

but now this place abounds with illness and calamity,

and i alone am able to save and protect them."*

the three who attended the birth of a savior prayed

"may understanding obedience conquer ignorant disobedience.

may harmony triumph over discord,

and generosity of spirit over covetous avarice

and may respect replace derision!"**

as war threatened daily to destroy them

my jewish brethren prayed, "eternal god,

the guide of humanity, you have called

us to peace, for you are peace itself."

"let there be enlightenment and knowledge.

let there be acceptance and love.

let there be confidence and trust.

let there be freedom and justice.

let there be prosperity and health.

another vision had taken me far into the

future where war and strife threatened

once again to deliver all into evil and waste.

but one was seen by god as he prayed,

"o god, you are the peace. the everlasting

peace is from you and it returns to you.

o our sustainer, grant us the life of true peace,

and enter us into the abode of peace.'****

god heard the prayer and once again led

us from the darkness of ignorance through

the greatness and humility of the one who

spoke that prayer.

then in that cave where i had sought shelter

a great light blinded me and i beheld the

prince of peace, returning from a journey

into the darkness, as i had myself. "do you

not know me?" tears of joy filled my eyes

as i knelt and kissed the hem of the robe.

whatever ills befall us and lead us astray

or into ungrateful despair, those comforters

of the broken-hearted, supporting those in need

and befriending the lovers of truth,

they also shall come as promised

to hold aloft the light of truth amidst

the darkness of human ignorance.*****

Jai! Namo! Ashem! Adonai! Abwoun! Allah!.........

Peace, Bringers of Peace, and Keepers of Peace

Be Blessed in this Holy Season of Remembrance and Renewal!

nizami

Easter, 2007

with deep gratitude to kismet and all

beloved collaborators

Copyright by Nizam Rose

*from "Essential Teachings" of the Dalai Lama

**from "Textual Sources for the Study of Zoroastrianism"

***from the "Elements of the Qabalah"

**** from "The Universal Spirit of Islam"

***** from the Universal Worship Service of Sufi Inayat Khan

Biography

Nizam Monica Rose has been a child and family therapist, teacher, musician, lover, wife, step-mom, fighter for social justice and world peace.  Her poetry springs from the heart and she hopes to write a screenplay soon. She is an aspirant on the Sufi path living in Gulf Breeze, FL.