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Based loosely on "The Prophet"
with apologies to Kahlil Gibran
Love
When love beckons, go follow him joyously with handstands,
Though his ways are hard and heavy.
And when his secure wings enfold you, welcome them,
Though his hidden sword might inadvertently wound you.
When he speaks believe in him,
Though his husky voice may undo your dreams
as wind lays waste the naked garden.
Even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and pokes your young branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots, jogging them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you to himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to a whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant,
And then he assigns you to his sacred sun fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the awesome secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.
But if in your fear you seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
It is better for you that you cover your nakedness with pajamas (or at least a thong) and pass out of the threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your wet tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not, nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God."
Do not think you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let your desires be:
To melt and be like a loud brook that sings its melody to the night.
To deserve the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love.
And vow to bleed willingly and joyfully.
Vow to wake at dawn and give thanks for another day of loving,
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy,
To return home at eventide with gratitude,
Then to sleep in the evening with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise from your lips.
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Giving
You give but little when you unload your unneeded old possessions which have not sold on eBay.
When you give from your heart and soul, you really give.
Why amass and keep locked up a houseful of odd doodads in your trunks and homes out of fear that you may need them tomorrow?
What is fear of need but need of fear? See here!
Fear of thirst when your well is full is an endless thirst not quenchable at any saloon.
Those numbskull fools who usually give little of what they have, then ruefully and only for recognition, give cursed gifts.
Those who have little and give all sense the bounty of life and have bank accounts and pocketbooks that are never empty.
Those who give consciously with joy have joy as their soul's reward.
Those who give with pain have pain as their soul's burden.
Those who do not seek joy and do not think of reward,
Give as the mute flower blossoms in the valley release their fragrance with abandon into unbound space.
Through them God seems to speak, and from behind their eyes He looks and smiles upon the earth.
To give when asked is good, better to give unasked, unbound, to the saddened, empty handed, tuneless (but not the lustful).
Looking consciously for a lost soul who can receive brings greater joy than giving.
Is there anything that your soul will not share?
Everybody is someday given something, so start now so the day of giving can be yours.
You often say, "I would give, but only to the deserving."
The apple trees in your orchard do not say this to you, or to the skunks in the yard.
They share selflessly so that they may live; to withhold is to die.
The person who has days and nights of life is worthy of anything else from you.
He who deserves to drink from the monsoon rains deserves a cup from your clean well.
Who are you that less lucky sufferers should have to ask you for charity?
Look at yourself, see that you deserve to be an instrument of giving.
Life gives to life, while you who think you give are a deluded dullard.
And you receivers (all of you) must not fret or place too much emphasis on gratitude, or you are bound to the person who gives to you.
Rather, mutually soar into the nearest sunset on the gifts as feathery wings.
Superficial concern about your debt is to doubt the generous donor who has the earth as mother, and unseen God as father.
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