A poem by Avikal, spoken by the author, and music by Murray Burns
It comes and strikes you.
Your eyes suddenly open to see that which is,
the world is transfigured and everything
is resplendent with the grace of God.
Or it comes as a gentle whisper,
soft as a breeze that flows under your skin
and melts your bones.
Different cords vibrate
inside you and the music of existence
plays without a player.
It takes possession of your body,
changing the direction of the streams of energy,
rounding corners, rewiring nerves,
helping the hidden smile appear
on your lips
and innocence to moisten your eyes.
The secret heart fills with sweet, gentle longing
as you see the true face of the Beloved
in the thousands small things
of everyday life.
You don’t want anything special
when everything is just perfect.
Preciousness becomes the name of the game.
Every form is the form of the Beloved.
Every name is His name.
Nothing can be excluded, ever.
Neither when you remember, nor when you
Poem by Avikal and music by Murray Burns