Every Face

[Guest guest]

In gardens where cinnamon trees and the jasmine vine twines, you will

find me with my Love's fresh splash of wine inside.

Every glowing with inner light, white, flower face of my Beloved sips

this honeyed-nectar of what Hallaj knew as he sang in the Garden.

Violets kiss the feet of Layla's dog, come around this time as my

Heartbeat. Azaleas open up like seashells and the Splendor of the

Dawn steps out.

In every clovey, head in hands, viburnum blossom, is a gift for

Mashuq. All the fluttered maple leaves lying in a pool of ruby, sing

openly

of Firefields of Red's beginning, and a Well of Light that offered

White to every shimmered friend adorned in Iridescence-woven

Gladrags.

I can't begin to end this Song that leaps from every floral face, from

every single living eye that peers out from blossom's head.

This music, this winetalk, I'm too drunk sloshing about inside this

Temple of Love, too drunk in every flower lolling around this Tavern

to know what is

and what isn't fit for men and women's ears to hear about just now.

I'm too Intoxicated, too Drunk to know any better than to talk about

my Darling One.

What were we talking about just now, I've forgotten what it was we

said? Excuse me my friend, I must hurry along, my Beloved needs more

Wine.

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[Guest guest]

, "Mazie Lane" <sraddha54@h...> wrote:

> In gardens where cinnamon trees and the jasmine vine twine,

you will find me with my Love's fresh splash of wine inside,

ever-glowing with inner light, white, flower face of my Beloved

sips this honeyed-nectar of what Hallaj knew as he sang in the

Garden.

Violets kiss the feet of Layla's dog, come around this time as my

Heartbeat.

Azaleas open up like seashells and the Splendor of the Dawn steps

out.

In every clovey, head in hands, viburnum blossom, is a gift for

Mashuq.

All the fluttered maple leaves lying in a pool of ruby, sing openly

of Firefields of Red's beginning, and a Well of Light that offered

White to every shimmered friend adorned in Iridescence-woven

Gladrags.

I can't begin to end this Song that leaps from every floral face,

from every single living eye that peers out from blossom's head.

This music, this winetalk -- I'm too drunk sloshing about inside this

Temple of Love, too drunk in every flower lolling around this Tavern

to know what is and what isn't fit for men and women's ears to hear

about just now.

I'm too Intoxicated, too Drunk to know any better than to talk about

my Darling One.

What were we talking about just now, I've forgotten what it was we

said?

Excuse me my friend, I must hurry along, my Beloved needs more Wine.

 

 

 

.......

 

In this state there is no Shiva, nor any Holy Union,

only a somewhat something moving dream-like on a fading road.

I, Lalla, entered the Jasmine Garden where Shiva and Shakti were

making Love.

I dissolved into Them, and what is This to me now?

I seem to be here, but really, I am walking in the Jasmine Garden.

Whatever work I've done, whatever I've thought

was Praise with my body, Praise hidden inside my head.

I wearied myself searching for the Friend, with efforts

beyond my strength.

I came to the door and saw how powerful the locks were bolted,

and the Longing in me became that strong, and then I saw that

I was gazing from within the Presence.

With that waiting, and in giving up all wanting, and in giving up

all trying -- only then did Lalla flow out from where I knelt.

 

~Lalla

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

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