No Rest Under the Sun

There is no rest under the sun.
There is only toil and darkness.
The shadows linger on the ground-
   my grave empty.
This is the place of decaying things.
The light that does enter fades
   into the west sky.
It permeates my existence.
Is my life of any value to anyone?
Who will remember me when I am
   buried in my grave?

There is no rest under the sun.
My heart longs for you.
I toil day and night searching for you.
I call your name but get no response.
I came into this world to claim your love.
Here I am!
Hungry my soul is to be with you.
This world has torn us apart,
   and only death will offer relief for me.
On the other side I will meet you,
   and never depart from your side again.

 

The Vision of Your Face

Your love, from before
the beginning of time,
is my soul-
it's my very self.

Your love is the treasure
of my weak, begging heart.

Perhaps your beauty
has been far from me-
but the vision
of your face
has stayed with me always.

Reference~ Sultan Walad

What Is Love?

There are two kinds of love, illusionary and real, false and true.  False love eludes, frightens, and confuses us. True love is sublimely simple, for unlike false love that has many desires real love has but one aspiration: To Share. 

False love is jealous.
False love tells lies.
False love is boastful.
False love pays lip service.
False love is insecure.
False love deceives.
False love is greedy.
False love makes demands.
False love clings.
False love smothers.
False love is guilty.
False love "turns me on."
False love is placed on pedestals.
False love is paid for with dead mink.
False love divorces.
False love complains.
False love is convenient.
False love looks out for number one.
False love reads like a grocery list:
False love runs on empty.
False love is hate.

Reference~ Kabbalah for the Layman by Rav Berg

Dante's Bride

The man Dante exiled from Florence.  The bride Beatrice haunts his dreams.  She in her bridal gown; the Lord cradling Dante's bride in His arms.  Dante's beating heart in the Lord's hand- offered to His bride.  She graciously devours it and her bridal gown is stained with Dante's blood. 

She is the divine bride forever united to her groom through a ritual sacrifice that demands death.  Beatrice travels between his world and the Other.  Her heart yearning for him.  Her weeping soul floods Dante's mind.  He can not bare her grief and his separation from her. 

He fills his emptiness with numerous lovers.  They share his bed, but not his heart.  The shame wounds his soul.  Abandoning allusive love- Dante ponders his heart.  The image of Beatrice causes unbearable pain.  Dante finds bitter relief in writing. His words on the paper reflect love's intelligence.  Dante's unquenchable desire for his bride becomes an inner journey.  He finds it is a journey of the heart from the beginning to the end. Love's intelligence reveals the mystery of the lovers' separation.