Following Curnow at Karekare

A poem inspired by Karekare beach. Allen Curnow, who was one of New Zealand's best renowned poets, had a holiday home (bach) at the Karekare settlement. My poem gets its start from a poem by Curnow. And it includes quotations from the "Long Healing Prayer" by Baha'u'llah.

Revolutions -- poem on the cycles of life

I've had a binge on revising some of the poems I wrote a few years ago. This is one of them.

Revolutions

Rejoice in the glorious world around
Hail its varying nights and days
Such is the power of life to astound

Giving its benefits which surround
Children learning, eyes ablaze
Who plunge in the glorious world around

Seasons turning renew the ground
Making us marvel each altering phase
Such is the power of life to astound

Elements gather and crumble down
Bodies decay but passion stays
Inspired by the glorious world around

As age obscures both sight and sound
The mind recalls in countless ways
That life contains a power to astound

And in the end we shall no doubt be found
Knowing what’s been twinkling in our gaze
A greater glorious world around
Such is the power of life to astound

Technorati Tags: poem

Poem on the Baha'i Fast

The annual period of fasting observed by Baha'is runs from March 2-20. Those who are fasting take no food or drink each day between sunrise and sunset. It is a period of reflection that brings about mental and spiritual renewal. The fast is not kept by children, the elderly, the ill, nor by pregnant or nursing mothers.

The land shows up at first in hazy lines
and shadows making shapes in charcoal grey
then ghostly things take colour, depth and form
till houses, hills and trees materialize
-- become a busy world beneath the sun.

That time has come for watchfulness at dawn
and patience through the burning hours till dusk
for on these days the tongue grows dry,
the stomach groans, and while the clock
ticks by, the brain goes slightly dull,
as long and loud the March cicadas fret.

And yet the atmosphere stirs
with some uncommon vibrant pulse
-- some rare sweet song invigorates
the normal air -- a mystic tune
interpolates between the beats
of torpid time -- and laggard hours
are livened by a melody Divine.

Released to fly, the mind resorts
to higher thoughts -- desire abates
and indescribably a change
unfolds -- that lifts the soul --
imparts perceptions suddenly
and throws up chance encounters too
with fellow-travellers seeking light.

The turning of the earth, these nineteen days
instructs our hearts -- in heaven's ways.


[The above is a revised version of a poem posted here this time last year.]


Technorati Tags: Baha'i, fast, spirituality

A Centre that can hold

(revised) (again) (and again)


Where now the Hub that holds the earth on course?
Where the Orb round which our orbit goes?
Where the Eye from whence all seeing flows?
Where the Flame that gives growth vital force?

Good counsel gushes forth from clever minds
Reason voids all ills or so they say
Man ventures to contrive synthetic day
And science thrives but yet the world unwinds

Life pines away for want of potent light
Desire for wisdom hammers in the breast
The heart aspires to launch a primal quest
Grows stronger in its surety of flight
Cuts loose the crippling bonds of earthly claims
At last avows an unseen Beauty reigns

Whirlwind

This poem is a response to Angela Shortt's "Unbidden like surise".

Whirlwind

As if a cosmic whirlwind passes by
The stars careen across a churning sky

Primeval constellations fly apart
Propelled in gyres no instrument can chart

This storm must blow and nothing block its course
The gods themselves shall not resist its force

Not Hera nor Apollo stand their ground
When age-old bonds of hate have been unbound

Yet harpies, howling, grieve to see the fall
Of hallowed ways that keep the world in thrall

The woeful clamour of their carping jive
Invokes a day when naught but death may thrive

Such dire drones would send me to despair

Were they alone to wail upon the air

Were not a greater Voice to call the dance

That moves all life at springtime's brisk advance

Ramadan poems

American poet Daniel Abdal-Hayy Moore has been posting a series of poems reflecting on the Ramadan Fast. He is a master wordsmith. I can well identify with his poetry of the Fast, for it captures the experience of fasting superbly well. It resonates with my experience of the Baha'i Fast (which comes round every year in March).

As Moore writes of Ramadan:

each year it makes its visit, and year after
year it builds up to be a
sweet thing,

-- Quoted from "The Inevitable" from Ramadan Sonnets

Elegy to Malietoa Tanumafili II

O signal Chief of Polynesia's heart
Your noble soul has done its earthly part

You brought Mount Vaea's heights abiding fame
By blessing them, with worship of God's Name

Your hands gave true acclaim to what is just
Your deeds gave rise to loyalty and trust

Resisting power's corrupting, worldly wiles
You kept the flame of discord from your isles

To have seen a reign that history will extol
Each child of Silisili, must console

Embodying the best of royal arts
Your life became a signal to our hearts

[Malietoa's funeral will take place Saturday, New Zealand time / Friday, Samoan time. See Baha'i World News Service. See also, the Samoan Government website.]

Technorati Tags: Samoa, Malietoa, poem

The month of ‘Alá’

In the Baha'i calendar, the month of ‘Alá’ ("Loftiness"), is the month of fasting. It runs from 2-20 March each year, so Baha'is around the world are currently fasting each day from sunrise to sunset. Here is a poem about this special time of year.

‘Alá’

This first day of the fasting month, I rise
as lines and shapes in black and shades of grey
develop form, appear as houses, trees,
until -- a brighter burst of light breaks out --
the rising sun declares the day's begun!

The month of Loftiness has come
when through the day the tongue goes dry,
the stomach groans, and while the clock
ticks by, the brain goes slightly dull.

Cicadas drone their usual tune
and yet the atmosphere vibrates
with some uncommon rippling pulse --
some rare sweet song invigorates
the normal air -- a mystic strain
interpolates between the beats
of torpid time -- and laggard hours
are livened by its melody.

So gradually the mind resorts
to loftier thoughts -- desire abates
and indescribably a change
unfolds within the inmost soul.

For nineteen days we mark the route
across the sky, the sun must go --
moved thus to contemplate the laws
creation's Lord laid down long ere
the sun and planets came to be.
Deferring, then, till sun has set
our bodies' wants -- we train our hearts
to crave instead the course Divine.

And frequently, the fasting time
yields new perceptions casually.
It throws up chance encounters too
with fellow-travellers seeking light.

The Blessed Beauty said these days
are each endowed with special grace.

The rising sun declares the day's begun.
It climbs to reach the blazing heights of noon,
descends and soon departs, and day is done --
then may our Lord's good-pleasure light our dreams.

Puppet-show poem

This poem is based on a story told by Baha'u'llah from His childhood.

For the story, see the book "Summons of the Lord of Hosts"

Small world

Witness the king’s royal court
Where powerful struggles are fought
At the end of the day
Its all just a play
When that court is the puppet-show sort

Observe how the courtiers parade
In cloaks made of silk and brocade
How they get in a spat
On the height of a hat
Or the width of a strip of gold braid

Now enter some troops with a captive
Accused as a thief to be active
He gets a fair trial
And in a short while
An axe makes the sentence effective

More happenings follow apace
That typify joy and disgrace
Thus the cord-pulling charmer
Puts on such a drama
Which, when done, he takes home in a case

Well the moral is easily got
In this tale of the string-puppets’ lot
O their life on the go
Makes a wonderful show
But their world is a very small spot

Prisoners' Elegy

Droving a plodding herd we’re getting there
Our paces crunch the gravel road we tread
A tractor engine strums the evening air
The milking plant starts humming in the shed

And there we boss the mooing cows in line
The milk-pump’s chug insists we do our task --
One task of those the waking hours assign
Whereby we meet what nature’s cycles ask

The rounds of labour raise a steady chant
That floats across the flatlands to the hills
And flowing with the fenceline’s rising slant
Arises to the sky, subsides and stills

As night comes down the world of dreams expands
Rolls out a track toward the mystic sky
Then morning places weightier matters on our hands
Sent by the rising sun, our strength we try

A man who knew in youth those sunlit ways
Between the fertile paddocks of that farm
Took casually the fortune of those days
And barely saw the threat of any harm

No foresight told there’d come a dismal time --
That he’d descend to lodge within a space
From which, for long, he could not hope to climb
Where madding burdens clamp their stern embrace

With hindsight he could warrant no surprise
To find himself enclosed in halls of grey
Where rigidly his routine hours comprise
Of chores contrived, his sanity to slay

Enraptured dreams had brought him to this state
The peaches on the trees -- were his to pluck
An apple of the eye -- would be his mate
Each juicy fruit that grows -- was his to suck

And who does not vacate their blameless youth?
Who never goes where innocence is spent?
Who ever did resist that sweet untruth --
The glamour of the world’s alluring scent?

No village makes a haven from the world
No nation gives a guarantee of peace
No idle wish can loose the snare that’s curled
Around a life, by folly’s wild caprice

No home gives certain shelter from the storm
A heart may not depend on vows of care
Where heaven’s voice finds no-one to inform
Finds scarce an ear attuned to be aware

No inmate owns a key to flee the cell
Its walls complete the circle of his view
Its forced confinement forms a living hell
Unless with vision, he through stone can hew

On tawdry walls he paints a summer land
With stubborn art creates a living scene
That takes him where his body cannot stand
In prospects beamed upon an inward screen

Not convicts all, but prisoners we are all
Inside a gilded cage that traps our flight
To gaze beyond the space in which we crawl
Equips the earthbound with empyreal sight

As if released to speed in sky at dawn
We shall attain the eagle’s awesome skill
To rise above the plane from which we’re born
And spy the darting prey we must needs kill

We shall like lions listen on the breeze
For heartbeats pulsing on the moving air
Those distant murmers that our hunger tease --
Such savoury signs must signify good fare

The flames that feed us lurk in nature’s show
They flicker on the edges of perception
They flare out in the sunset’s fiery glow --
That herald of the end of self-deception

Imagination sports a double head
Both smiling: one shows greed and one bears grace
Before the blood from all my veins has bled
My mind, I pray, the lines of grace can trace

I here pay tribute to those souls who’ve flown
And left behind the arts they made from life
Projecting back a glimpse of what they’ve known
From struggle with the world’s ignoble strife

(With appreciation to Thomas Gray)

The Prophet Muhammad's genius for peace

Muhammad first announced His mission as a Prophet to his kin and the people of Mecca, the city where He lived, around A.D. 614. But because Muhammad’s message was strongly opposed to idolatry, and Mecca was the main centre in that region for the worship of idols, Muhammad and his small group of followers suffered serious persecutions at the hands of the city’s tribal leaders and the populace at large. Eventually the Muslims found refuge in the town of Yathrib (now known as Medina), most of whose inhabitants also converted to Islam, and the Muslim community began to flourish. The leaders of Mecca launched three great attacks against Medina, in 623, 625, and 627. The Muslims were not defeated, and indeed Muhammad was steadily gaining a greater following in many parts of Arabia. In 628, Muhammad, through superb diplomacy, initiated a “ten year truce” with Mecca. Within two years, this truce had been broken by the actions of a few hotheaded youth of a tribe allied to Mecca. Shortly thereafter, a Muslim army, which on the way grew to be ten thousand strong, marched on Mecca.

The fall of Mecca

That night a desert wasteland came alive,

as countless bonfires blazed across the plain,

where troops encamped before their final drive,

in multitudes, that made defences vain.

Abú Sufyán, who climbed a hill and saw

the burning threat, knew Mecca’s doom stood by.

That greying chief had no more heart for war –

conceived surrender as the only course to try.

He thought to act as envoy, then, and plead

with He whose Cause advanced relentlessly –

resile from battle with that potent Creed

on terms that might avert catastrophe.

At dawn, escorted through a watchful crowd,

the pagan chief attained the Prophet’s tent –

on entering which, he found himself endowed

with awe, at scenes commanding – wonderment.

A splendour charged the aura of that place

that not Byzantium nor yet Pars could claim.

No king had glory like Muhammad’s grace –

and those who served Him, served with hearts aflame.

Addressing gently now His bitter foe,

Muhammad sought an answer of His guest –

would he admit, for surely he must know –

the one true God, no idol can contest.

The meek reply: “Your hosts grow more and more,

while no stone god rewards my loyal oath.

Allah, alone, full well, I will adore –

and vow to You, His Messenger, my troth.”

Muhammad pledged that those forswearing force

would see but blessings fall upon their fate –

nor placid homes find vengeance at their doors,

nor swordless men, regret their helpless state.

Before Abú Sufyán rushed home to warn

his tribe they must give in or die, he watched

as rank on rank of armoured men marched on

and passed him by, and left him badly shocked.

Though briefly led to fear a grim attack

by hostile hordes with bloody debts to pay

firm reassurance sent him quickly back

to keep his city’s braves from futile fray.

The legions of Islám prevailed with ease

and spilt the blood of few upon the ground.

Though Mecca fell, its folk would rise to seize

the gift of faith the Victor would propound.

Inside the ka’bah built by Abraham

false deities long mocked the true Divine.

At once the Prophet struck to end their sham –

hurled out the noxious idols, cleansed the Shrine.

And “Truth has come”, He said. “The false is gone.”

And said again, for each stone god He felled.

The Faith He taught asserts the living One

is merciful – which truth, His deeds upheld.

Historical background

Most of the following information is from Muhammad and the Course of Islam, by the historian, H.M. Balyuzi, published by George Ronald, Oxford, 1976.

As is often said, “Islam means peace.” It has had this meaning, from the start, even though the battles that occurred in the early days of Islam admittedly loom large in its history. That the early Muslims committed acts of violence in the course of serving their Faith, is undeniable. But the nature of the battles can be misconstrued, if the reality of the situation of those times is not accounted for. The warfare conducted by Muhammad was primarily defensive, and He took every opportunity to avoid bloodshed, if at all possible. Indeed, it seems His victories were mainly won by the effectiveness of his defensive strategies, reversing the saying that attack is the best form of defence. The historical record shows that His vanquished enemies were not forced to convert to Islam, for some of them, including a number of pagans in Mecca, after the city was defeated, freely chose to stay outside the Islamic fold. That “there is no compusion in religion”, was a principle that Muhammad maintained throughout his life.

But Muhammad’s unique role was to serve not only as Prophet but also as the founder and leader of a nation. To an ignorant people accustomed to feuding and fiercely loyal to their tribes, he brought unity and enlightenment. A fair reading of history needs to appreciate the responsibilities He had in His dual role as Prophet and Statesman, and His extraordinary achievements in transforming a fractious land into an orderly society. It was for this purpose that He fought. In wielding the forces that kings and rulers must wield, he did so with a genius for peace, and a forbearance, that no other commander in chief has ever approached. But the military victories were insignificant beside His service to humankind in revealing the Qur’an, which established a pattern of civilisation and spirituality that flowered centuries afer His death, producing Islam’s golden age, whose intellectual and spiritual benefits underpin the modern world.

Muhammad was a resident of the city of Mecca when His prophetic mission began, around A.D. 610. Mecca was the centre of idol-worship in Arabia, where pilgrims paid homage to al-Lat, Manat, Hubal, and a pantheon of others. The Revelation Muhammad received, as recorded in the Qur’an, commanded him: “So, call not upon another god, with God, lest thou be of those who are chastised. And warn thy clan, thy nearest kin. And lower thy wing to those who follow thee, being believers.” (Surah xxvi, 213-30) Over time, Muhammad’s vigorous opposition to idolatry led to an increasing number of repressive measures against him by the leaders of Mecca. Eventually, He and His followers were welcomed and given refuge by the people of Yathrib (now called Medina), where they settled in relative safety and could prosper. The Medinites themselves, as the whole, accepted Islam. The armies of Mecca proceeded to attack Medina, particularly in three great campaigns: the battles of Badr in 623 and Uhud in 625, and the investment of Medina in 627. The senior leader of Mecca during this period was Abú Sufyán, high chieftain of the Quraysh, the major tribe of the city. In March 628 Muhammad initiated a truce with Mecca that was intended to last ten years. This was readily accepted by the Quraysh, who were tired of the fruitless fighting and the resulting damage to their trading activities. Yet, within a couple of years, the truce was broken as a result of the actions of a few hot-headed young men of a tribe allied to the Quraysh. Hoping to avert retaliation, Abú Sufyán visited Medina, seeking a meeting with the Prophet. He was rebuffed and went home deeply despondent. Soon after, Muhammad’s army marched on Mecca.

The poem recounts the exceptional achievement of Muhammad in achieving an almost bloodless victory over a veteran enemy. The facts alluded to in the poem are as follows. By the time the Muslim army reached Mar-az-Zahran, some 20 kilometres out of Mecca, it had swelled to a force ten-thousand strong, including contingents from a number of tribes that had only recently embracd Islam. The army stopped there for the night, and Muhammad gave an order for bonfires to be lit across the plain. Abú Sufyán came out of Mecca that night with two companions, sensing trouble was on the way. Upon seeing the blazing fires, his suspicions were confirmed. Meeting up with an uncle of the Prophet who was friendly towards him, He managed to obtain safe conduct past the sentries to Muhammad’s tent, but was asked to wait until morning before a meeting could take place. At dawn, he heard the call to prayer, chanted by the Ethiopian former slave, Bilal, the first muezzin. The historian, Hasan Balyuzi, writes: “Abú Sufyán was amazed and his amazement was boundless when he noticed how the Muslims would not let a drop of water, with which Muhammad made his ablutions, reach the ground. Not even at the courts of the Sasanians [monarchs of Persia, or Pars] and the Byzantines, had he seen such devotion.” An earlier Meccan envoy to Muhammad had similarly reported, Balyuzi states, “that though he had been to the courts of Chosroes, Caesar and the Negus, nowhere had he seen the like or equal of the reverence which Muslims rendered to Muhammad.”

Following dawn prayers, Abú Sufyán was welcomed by the Prophet. In the course of the interview that followed, he admitted the ineffectualness of the deities he had lifelong worshipped, and declared his allegiance to Islam, testifying: "Ilaha illa Allah. Muhammad rasul Allah." "There is no God but God. Muhammad is the messenger of God." This is the shahada, the great confession.¹ Muhammad then promised the chief, “Whoever enters the house of Abú Sufyán in the upper regions of Mecca, and whoever enters the house of Hakim in the lower regions of Mecca, he shall be secure; and whoever lays down his arms, he shall be secure; and whoever shuts himself behind his own door, he shall be secure; and whoever enters the [Ka’bah], he shall be secure.” At the end of the meeting, Abú Sufyán was invited to watch while contingents of the army rode past the spot where he stood, lest he be tempted to doubt what Mecca was up against. During this parade of strength, the standard-bearer of Muhammad’s escort caught sight of Abú Sufyán, and was so upset by the sight that he threatened, “O Abú Sufyán, this is the day of blood-letting, when God shall abase the Quraysh.” Balyuzi writes: “Abú Sufyán trembled with fear, and begged Muhammad, when the Prophet drew level with him, not to change His mind, but to be compassionate towards His people ... Muhammad assured him that [the standard-bearer] had spoken in haste: ‘O Abú Sufyán, nay, today is the day of mercy. Today God shall exalt the Quraysh.’” The chief returned home to warn his people, and to face the rage of his wife, Hind, who rained blows on him and called (unsuccessfully) on bystanders to kill this “old, decrepit fool.”

The Muslim army entered Mecca against negligible resistance. The standard-bearer who had threatened Abú Sufyán was told to hand over the banner to his son, in his stead. There were admittedly heavy casualties among a small band of “irreconcilables”, but this outbreak of fighting soon came to an end, and the ringleaders fled. It is said that this incident would have been less bloody if not for a mistake by a messenger who conveyed Muhammad’s order to hold back the sword as an order to “put the sword on them”. After a period of rest, Muhammad rode on horseback to the Ka’bah, still dressed in mail. According to Balyuzi, “It is related that three hundred and sixty idols were ranged around the court of the Ka’bah. As the Prophet moved from one to the other, to hurl them down, He exclaimed: ‘Truth has come and the false has departed, indeed the false has truly gone.’ This was the climax, the supreme moment of the mission of Muhammad.”

Next, on Mount Safa, Meccans crowded to pledge fealty to Muhammad. Muhammad forgave even those among the Meccans who had caused the most severe of difficulties for Him and His Cause. However, seven unrepentant individuals, four men and three women, were put to death for grave crimes. Seven other condemned men, and three women, escaped punishment, through their own contrition or an appeal on their behalf by a Muslim. Some fighting occurred in regions nearby to Mecca within the next few weeks, but within a short time, a young man of Mecca was appointed administrator, and Muhummad returned to Medina, leaving behind one of his close associates to teach the precepts of Islam. One among those he forgave before he left was Wahshi, who had killed Hamzah, who was a cherished friend of the Prophet, at the battle of Uhud. Wahshi despaired of ever being forgiven. For him, this verse of the Qur’an was revealed:

Say: “O my people who have been prodigal against yourselves, do not despair of God’s mercy; surely God forgives sins altogether; surely He is the All-forgiving, the All-compassionate.”²

This verse was regarded by no less than Ali, the first Imam of the Shi’ah, as the most far-reaching in the whole of the Qur’an. He took his cue in this from comments made by Muhammad Himself.

As to Abú Sufyán, he lived to the age of 95, and the Caliph, Uthman, led his funeral prayer.³

1See www.islamonline.com

2Verse 54 of Surah xxxix.

3For a biographical article on Abú Sufyán’s life, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abu_Sufyan