Love's Sanctuary

If we reside in love’s sanctuary, the Beloved is in the softness of the pillow, gently enfolding us, breathing with us, caressing us. When we speak, we speak to one another from this place of love, echoing the murmurs of the Beloved. We speak softly, intuitively, gently. We pick beautiful words; our words are the vehicles to carry this sweet essence of the Beloved within us.

We keep turning, turning, to touch and feel and describe this beauty, which is so intrinsic, not separate from our very selves. It is, as my friend says, like trying to describe water to fish. Why do we keep turning, trying to share this presence? If we are it, we are open to this secret, then why the words?

In a sanctuary, a refuge and haven for the Beloved to spark, kindle and flame, enlighten the very walls and hillsides with presence, drifting, slowly, softly like falling snow, gathering on the stones, tree limbs, and our eyelashes. This presence is sometimes is barely perceptible, only because we are cloaked and covered over, our eyes closed to the rich beauty all around us. But when we are open, we hold ourselves open like naked bathers in the sun, absorbing this light from every direction, until we feel the power of the glow so strongly that it radiates from every pore, every breath, we have turned into… we are the Beloved, we are the voice, gesture and song of graceful presence.

A subtle glance, a flicker of recognition, a synchronous experience, a bird soaring soundlessly through the sky are little windows into the sanctuary, light reflecting on the water – all fragments of light bursting from the prism of knowing. Reference points have dissolved. Dimensions are ultimate. It is so difficult to articulate this kind of knowing – but we try. And we try because we feel some encouragement to shine our light as is has been offered to us. Light is encouraging. Without it, we would not open our hearts; we would not blossom and give our beauty back to the world, because, as the poet Hafiz suggests, we would be too frightened.

How did the rose
ever open its heart
and give to this world
all its beauty?
It felt the encouragement of light
against its Being.
Otherwise, we all remain
too frightened.

***
So we move in and through the sanctuary, love’s sanctuary, absorbing and being, reflecting and shining. Oh! Such strong light! Rays pierce the darkness and cause the dust to dance. We dance, too! How can we not share this? It is who we are.