Gifts Given, Gifts Spurned...

The Madman was setting under his favorite tree

talking and teaching a group of curious
people. The day was cloudy and cool,
and the Huntress was across the grove
at the old hollow tree sharing time with
the Pir of the Mouse Dervishes.

A woman approached the dervish and
presented him with a hand sewn hat,
which he took from her hands.
He looked closely at it,
then he stood up and threw it to the
ground, and stepped on it several times.
There were gasps from the people,
none louder than that of the woman who
had given it to him.

"Dervish, that was rude!"
one man shouted.
"Yes! And cruel too. She put a lot
of work into that kufi."
added another.

The dervish spat on it.

People stood up and began to berate
the Madman.
"You are an ungrateful pig!"
someone shouted.
The woman who had brought the gift
began to weep.
"Look! Look you ass, you phony! Now you
have made the creator of the hat weep!"

The dervish regarded them, and spoke.
"Sit down! I must ask you a question!"

The people slowly sat back down.

"Why do you berate me so?"

The giver of the gift spoke;
"I put many hours into hand sewing that
kufi. I purchased good material, and also
put Love into its' making. These people
feel it very uncaring and ungrateful of you
to treat a gift so." She sniffled and wiped
away a tear.

"Just so." the dervish said.

"Now I must ask a question.
You all have been inquiring about the
end of the world, about Paradise, and
the virtues of rejecting the world and all
of what you call its 'snares'. You speak of
your troubles, your cares and your woes.
You speak longingly about the so-called
'End of Days' and one of you even carries a
novel describing the end of the world.

In your lust, and yes, it is a lust, for such

apocalyptic destruction, throwing back at
the Beloved, the Creator, this life, this whole
lovingly constructed world which was made for
you, you cast it down and step on it!
How is that any different than what I
just did?"

It was quiet. Then someone said,
"It is our promised reward in scripture."

"Reward for what? Organized ingratitude for
life and this world, which you pass off as religion?"

No one spoke.

"You cleave to such fantasies because you
have problems, bills, disappointments, heartaches
and losses. Look at the sun breaking through the
clouds, its' beams lighting the earth and sky.
Look at the two herons flying there,
listen to the children playing and laughing!
You clutch a belief that would see all this,
all beauty, all hope, all potential, perish
in a fiery cataclysm, just because you are
weighed down and wish to escape to some place
where you will have no discomfort, no
aches and pains. Every time you scorn your
life, you spit on the reality of the here and now,

and that  act  guarantees that dissatisfaction will

follow you like your very shadow."

"It is natural to want to escape from bad things,
and be happy!' One person said!
"Yes it is!" said another.

"When you escape pain and sorrow, you
also escape the hope given you freely; a
hope of Union with the Beloved, that is beyond
my poor ability to describe, but one that so
far exceeds your fantasies of fire, destruction
and personal relief, that to even try to
describe it is a task even angels avoid.
You have been given this world, this place,
this time, these circumstances to build your
life in. To reject that is to do to the Beloved's
Gifts, what I just did to this kufi."

"What then must we do?" asked the woman.

The Dervish bent over and picked up the
hat, and beat it against his leg till the dust was
gone, and he wiped the spit on his robe.
He carefully placed it on his head, and walking to the
woman took her hands and kissed them.
"I shall treasure this kufi, good sister."
She smiled.

"You ask what you are to do. I tell you,
and this is a hard teaching."

"What is it!"

"What needs to perish is not this world, this
gift of God, but the fantasy, the dream of escape
you cherish. When the dream of escape is swallowed
up in the apocalyptic fires of Love, then everything
becomes precious, each moment an opportunity
and a gift."

With that the dervish walked away, stopping
by the old hollow tree to retrieve his Huntress,
and continuing down the road.

The only sound was the joyous warble of the
goldfinch.

(C) TF  13Oct2010

New States, New stations..

Lately I have found myself empty,

like a large hall,

nothing within, only the dust

motes drifting gently in the slanting

rays of the sun.

Quiet beyond quiet,

an endless rhapsody of the sighing

winds.

No busy-ness intrudes here,

no agendas,

things to do,
not even the faint incandescent
hum of lights.

The sun suffices till dark
gathers me in, and I
set there in such a place,
and remember Who it was

that placed life within me.

I become the darkness,

boundaries blur and wink out..

and I have no

fear of this nothingness,

it is the place where dwells

The Infinite Beloved,

and I must go without anything

to enter God's Beingness.

My feet still walk the pavements,

I eat and sleep, sing and pray,

laugh and cry,

live my life, but if you were to

knock,
there would be no one home.

There is no fear,
at last.

(C) TF 15sept2010

4 Poems Written at Tim Horton's This Morning..

1

The priest hurried out the
door carrying his coffee.
His world looked heavy.

I am having a cappuccino
with the Friend, who places
the world upon my shoulders,
and it is so light.



2

What am I turning into?
Sinking into the Sea,
I do not drown.

Drinking the Wine in a tavern
I sink to the floor, singing.
I seem to be sinking a lot,
and there is no bottom in sight.



3

I speak.
You speak.
I hear.
You hear.
Do we listen?
“To what?”
We ask.


4

Time limits, but does not bind.
It passes and is gone.
We seek to erase its tracks
with pleasant little lies,
to hide the fact that we,
like time shall pass and be gone.


TF © 08Sept2010

A Matter of a Few Ashes...

The Madman was walking the road that led

away from the large city he had been in.
Its noise, bustle, and garishness
had made him sad with its shallow attempts
at amusement and distraction.

As he travelled away from the city he noticed
a man setting beneath a tree in a
meditative equipose. In front of the
man was a pile of white ashes.
The dervish stopped and looked at the
ashes, then at the man, then back to the
ashes. There was a small, hand lettered
sign in front of the pile that read,
"Thus has my ego become, consumed
in the flames of my meditation."

"Excuse me, sir." the dervish said.

The man's eyes slowly opened.
"Yes."

"What is all this?" the Madman asked indicating
the tableau. The man pointed at
the sign with his right hand.

"What does it say?" the dervish asked.

"Thus has my ego become, consumed
in the flames of my meditation." the man
quietly said.

"Ummm, ah, alright, but what does the sign say?"
the Madman asked again.

The man opened his his eyes again, wider this
time, and repeated "Thus has my ego become,
consumed in the flames of my meditation." He
said it louder because the dervish might be deaf as
well as illiterate.

"Ahhh, yes, yes, fine, but sir, what does the sign say?"

The man's eyes snapped open again.
"Look," he said tersely, "I have related to you twice
what the sign says. Now follow closely, 'Thus has my ego become,
consumed in the flames of my mediation.' got that?"

The dervish stood there for a minute or two,
then said.."Wonderful, yes, yes indeed, but what
exactly does your sign say?"

The man's eyes popped open and he jumped up,
getting in the Madman's face and shouting,
"Look you Goddamned fool! Are you stupid as well
as illiterate? I have told you three times what it says!"

The Madman stepped back and said "Oh, please do
be careful, be careful..."

"What? What the hell are you talking about fool?"

"Good sir you are standing in the pile of ashes and
it appears there are some very hot and still
burning embers in there, and I do not wish to
see you burned."

The afternoon wind began to pick up a bit as
the dervish continued on his way.

As the day turned to night. people coming
into the city commented on the strange man
on the road who was standing in a pile of
ashes, crying and tugging at his garments.


TF (C) 04sep10

Dervish Lessons

. What songs can I make today,

when my mind just sets,
staring out my eyes with a activity level.
just below inertia.

It would be like plucking the petals
from a rose just to hear it
scream, to get a cogent thought
out of my brain this afternoon.

The Madman looed at me with a
sidelong glance and a wry smile.

"So you have sludge in your pipes, eh?"
he says.

"So it would seem."

Taking my hands, he swung me around
three times
and let go.
I careened into the wall and fell flat
on my ass.

"There" he said. "You have achieved
extinction of the ego!"

I just stared at him.

"Later" he said, and ambled out the door.
From his pocket a small silver kitten
peeked out
and winked
at me.

I just laughed.
and
that
is very very
good.

TF (C) 03sept10

A Few Dates, Some Rice....

The Madman sat under a date palm eating
some of its fruits and enjoying the sun
on his face. He saw someone approaching,
and sat up a bit to receive the person, as they
were walking directly toward him. As the man drew
nearer he could see it was a philosopher
from the university.

"Ho, dervish!" the man said.

"At your service, good sir, and Peace to you."

"I have a question for you."

"That is fine. I have so many of my own,
what is one more."

"What are you?"

"A dervish, a man, a skin bag with a soul."

"No, no. You have told me WHO you are. I asked
WHAT you are."

The Madman thought for several minutes as the
man impatiently shifted from one foot to the
other.

"A bowl of rice." He said.

"What did you say?" the philosopher asked.
incredulously.

"A bowl of rice."

"That is just not possible. As a matter of empirical fact
it is ridiculous. You are no more a bowl of rice than I am a
fig tree. You think me a fool, answering like that?" he said to
the Madman, raising his voice.

"I told you I am a bowl of rice, and so I am."

The philosopher walked away several steps,
turned and walked back. "Look here, I ask you
once more, WHAT are you?"

"A bowl of rice." the dervish said evenly.

The philosopher walked away again, going a
bit farther this time. He stopped, scratched his head
and walked back to the dervish. "WHAT are you, dervish?
You are supposed to be wise, but I only see a fool, with
foolish answers."

"A bowl of rice."

The man slapped himself on the forehead and walked
across the road to the tea Shoppe where he purchased a
glass of mint tea to cool himself. He drank the tea as he looked at the
contentedly munching dervish under the date palm.

Returning to where the Madman sat, the philosopher
pointed his finger at the dervish, and again asked him,
"WHAT are you?"

"Love" the dervish said, smiling.

"Love? I thought you were a bowl of rice!"

"Well," said the Madman,

"You returned and took so many bites of me,

that the rice is gone, and when things are all

gone, only Love remains."

The philosopher stared blankly, setting down with

a thud. After a bit he got up, went back to his

house, threw all his books into the road, and

began himself, to walk the road of the Lovers.

TF 020910

Love's Requiem

The Madman stood at prayer at twilight

in his garden.

In the slowly expanding shadows
laden with rose and jasmine he sang.

“Oh Beloved, Oh thou Lover of All who
draw breath seeking you with their hearts open,
and souls athirst. Oh Thou who cannot help but
hear our prayers and songs, please listen to
this elegy, this requiem sung by Love.”

“Whenever the Song of Love is sung, it’s haunting,
lilting melodies are the elegy of the selfish one,
a requiem for the ego. They silence the voices
that seek to exclude, and warmly embrace those
whose voices are stifled by the oppression of
the Self and the tyranny of an Other. These songs,
Oh Beloved, lift up those trodden down by poverty
and the arrogance of those to whom the word ’Share”
is a curse . These symphonies of your Lovers,
succor the hearts beaten down by those servants of
the self who foolishly claim that they alone speak
Your words to humanity. Your Love is an open
“Come unto me regardless.” while their speech is
a constant litany of “thou shalt not” and “you are
Hopeless.”

How, Oh God, can a Lover of Your Eternity
ever be hopeless??”

“These Songs are our Hope and our Weapon against
the woe of the Selfish Self, the Selfish One who sucks
the sweetness from our hearts! Arm us well, Oh Lover,
that we may at last present to you a life danced in the
Living Springs of Your Very Being.”

“I open my heart Oh God! I lay all my fear, my anger,
my loneliness, my fullness, my tears and my laughter before
you on this ground. Take them, take them all and place
them in the brazier which burns before your Inner Places.
take my Love, My heart, my very soul and this skin bag
it calls a dwelling place, full of blood, shit, and fluids though it
is. Take my mind, my words, my breaths, and gasps,
take it all, Oh My Lover……”

The Madman covered his face with his hands, and wept,
as his spirit ascended to places we cannot even touch
in dreams.

In a darkening corner sat two friends.
A silver Huntress of Hearts and a gentle old Pir.
To the eyes of man they seemed a kitten and a mouse.

“There are no words.” the Pir said solemnly.

“None.” the Huntress said.

And they too began their song,
at twilight…..


TF © 31Aug2010

A Little Gardening

The Madman loved gardens,
whether large with sculpted hedges and trees,
full of flowers and ponds, alive with flashing

fishes and birds, or

small and tidy with a few roses, some jasmine
and a few cattails where it met a wetland.

This described the Madman's own garden,
a miniature paradise at the back of his modest
home. It had a wall on three sides, the fourth being the
marshy pond where dwelt many birds who feasted

on the mosquitoes, fish; big lazy carp, and frogs.

Today, as the dervish pruned his roses,

Photo by Mary Fullerton

his mind harked back to the previous night, and he

was filled with peace. The kitten played near
the rushes."Thank you Oh God, for this small
taste of The Garden of Paradise." he sang as he
worked, snipping and carefully keeping the hips
of the faded roses for his tea.

He noticed the kitten studying something with
all the feline intensity She could muster.
Suddenly a loud croak boomed out of the
rushes near where the kitten stood. She reared
up on Her hind legs giving a loud 'rowr', then bounded about in sheer excitement. there was
another croak followed by a 'rowr'


The Madman walked over to see the kitten nose to nose
with a very large frog. There seemed no antagonism,
just a communication that was
between frog, kitten and God.

The Madman smiled and returned to his roses.
The croaking and mewing continued for a while, ending
in a splash as the frog returned to the marsh. The
kitten then found a sunny place and lay down for a nap.

The day crept into the afternoon, and the
dervish prayed, rested, and ate some cheese and bread.

There was a knocking on the Garden gate, followed
by a voice.
"Dervish! Hey dervish are you in there? Where have you
been this morning? I need to ask you something."
"I have been dead and walking in the Garden today!" the
dervish answered.
'What!?" the other man shouted "Dead?! If you were dead
how could you be talking to me over this wall?"
'Perhaps you too are dead."
"What the hell are you saying? I am alive! I just left
the tea shoppe and everyone there saw me!"
"Perhaps they too are dead." the dervish said.

"You are crazier than a rat in a jar! I don't know why
I bother to ask you anything. I know the answer already,
any way!"

"Thanks be to God! Thanks be to God!" the dervish shouted.
"What now, you crazy fool?"
"You have risen from the dead!"

It was quiet from the other side of the gate.

The Madman returned to his spot as
the kitten ambled over and sat down.

"Ah, little one, are the roses not sweet?"

TF (C)30Aug2010

Night Prayer

The Madman walked forth while his
household slept, and he went to
his little garden, and there he sang
his midnight prayer..

"Give me time, Oh Beloved,
and the arms to hold You through these
long nights when You seem so distant.
Give me a heart that does not grow
faint when I run these many races, and
fill it with your own Sweet Self."

"Fill me with Your food that I may never
hunger for aught but You, and give me
drink from Your rivers of paradise that
I never thirst for anything but the dew of

Photo by Mary Fullerton

Your Grace."

A Lover's moan escaped the Madman's breast

as he fell on his knees and the healing
tears of the Beloved's Love fell on the
tiny red tea roses that he gently tended, as the
bearers of the Perfume of God.

He sat upon the ground consumed in the Love of the One.
His lips moved silently through the names, as his
tears continued to fall.

Then in the silver white light of the Moon,
he felt a small furry head nuzzle his folded hands,
"mew".
"Ah my little one, my little one. We set before the Beloved,
and breathe His Grace. So, so sweet it is. Beyond anything
I could tell you of." She nuzzled his hand until
he picked Her up. Bringing her to eye level, he looked
into her tiny face. "You do understand don't you?"

The wind blew a warm scent of jasmine and rose
through the garden. The Madman looked into her eyes,
and saw there a distant celebration of such things as
he knew not.

"More than I can tell you" She said in a small clear voice.

A tear formed in the Eye of God,
and the Night went on..and on..and on
And Love danced in joy.

TF (C) 29Aug2010

Heaven and Hell

The Madman sat under one of the many

olive trees in the large garden next to the tea
shoppe. He had refilled his venerable ceramic

mug from a samovar in the Shoppe, and was

savoring the sweet tea while his kitten batted
and pounced upon a dried crust of bread.

The Madman’s thoughts were full of the Beloved
and one of the Divine Names softly played upon his
lips as he sat. The breeze was warm and the scent
of flowers, smoke, and cooking food combined in
a most heady perfume.

Into this tableau, a man of very earnest mien approached
the Madman.
“Excuse me, good sir, but my I ask you a question?”

The kitten looked up from Her crust curiously,
and the dervish simply replied,
“ask, then.”

“If you were to die tonight do you know where you
would go?”

The Madman took a sip of tea.
“Into the grave, I suppose. The place we all end up.”

“I know that. I mean where will your soul go? Will
you be in Heaven or in Hell?”

“It seems to me that the two are inexorably interwoven,”
the Madman said, “in Heaven there is Hell and in Hell there
is Heaven.”

The man looked shocked.
“That is not possible foolish one! It says in my scripture
here that the blessed go to Heaven, and the damned…”

“Yes. Yes,” the dervish said kindly, “go to Hell.”

“I know all that, and my experience tells me that is
not so, for I experience the two as interwoven.”

“Experience means nothing! Faith means everything!”
the man said, jabbing his finger at the dervish.
“The two cannot be interwoven, as you say. That is
contrary to Faith and scripture!”

The kitten bristled a bit at this, and settled down close to
Her friend.

“Allow me to explain, good sir. As I set here under this tree,
at this time, in this place, with these conditions, holding my
tea, softly singing my Beloved’s name as my companion plays
quietly, is Heaven. The Bliss of my wife’s arms is Heaven. To pray
to the Beloved is Heaven.
Now, when a storm comes, and in it’s fury
drives me to seek shelter, in the Shoppe,
which is also crowded with others seeking
refuge from the storm, I am pushed and jostled,
and my feet are stepped on, my kitten is safe in
my pocket lest she be stepped on as well.
Hell has entered into Heaven .
The storm passes.
The sun returns, and everyone goes out to
resume their lives and doings. I return to my
tree, and to singing God’s name, and my kitten
resumes Her hunt. Heaven has arisen out of
Hell. They are forever intertwined.”

“You ARE mad!” the man says loudly.
“When Faith encounters experience, Faith
always must supersede! Do you wish to hear
my wonderful plan of salvation from your obvious ignorance!?”

“No. No thank you, but no. Your concern for my soul is
commendable, but I have heard it all before.”

“You then are more than mad, you are a fool!

I am taking my leave of you, so that you may simmer in
your sins. May God have mercy on you!”

“At every moment, every breath, God has such mercy for me.”

The man rose from where he had set, and walked purposely
away from the dervish..

“Are you then leaving me here, with no further word?”
the Madman asked.

“Indeed I am, sir. Good Bye!”

“My point exactly, Heaven has arisen from Hell.”

The Madman smiled .

A look of fury crossed the man’s face, which
grew red.

“And see, Hell itself has arisen.”

Uttering an epithet, the man hurried away.

The afternoon wind almost sounded as if God were
laughing.

“Mew”

“So True little one.”

And they relaxed into a sweet nap
As Heaven embraced them.


TF © 29Aug2010

What the Moon Saw

This morning, before the rising of the Sun,

the Moon came in through my window,
and setting on my shoulder,
gently awakened me.

“There are things I saw last night,
things of beauty and awe.. I must tell
you about such, before I go to
keep watch where night is just beginning.

“As I watched over the doings of the Lovers
last night I saw the Madman and his
beloved in their loving embrace,
cooing, crying and moaning as they
thrashed about in their ecstasy and bliss.
Then they slept, deeply and peacefully.

After the midnight hour I saw him again,
kneeling on the roof of his house praying to
the Beloved with as much fervor as he when he
embraced his wife.
Swaying to and fro he sings the Names and beseeches
the One for so many souls that I lost track.
Never once did he ask for himself, for health, or wealth
power or even respect. He prayed for those who
ridicule him, and make jokes about his
ragged cloak and bare feet.
He begged for words, and to be able to love
with the Love we are given by God.
That was all he asked
for himself.”

“His kitten lay curled next to him all the
time he prayed, Her fur seemed to glow of itself in
my light.”

“I truly see why they call him mad,” said the Moon.
“He prayed unclothed before the Beloved!”

“I know”, I said. I once asked him why he did
that and he laughed. He said,
“I came not from God in robes and shoes, but clothed
as the One saw fit to dispatch me here. This is the body,
the skin, which I was given from God’s hand, and so I shall
depart to the judgment. When there are those who would
be distressed, I cover the skin bag,
but when it is just God and I in the embrace of night,
I have nothing but He, and I clothe myself in nothing but
His Love and Grace. What He gives me is enough.”

The Moon sighed understanding and
quietly left for the other side of the world.

I went back to sleep knowing I had been remembered
by one of the True Lovers
of the One True Lover.

TF © 27Aug2010

The Madman Encounters a Funeral

The Madman encountered a funeral as he walked

out of his town. The body was wrapped in
its shroud, borne by the men of the family
while the women followed weeping.
Their sadness trailed after them like a
morning fog.

“Death is so unfair. I knew him. He was strong,
not yet truly old, his daughter soon to marry.”
Said a young man with his wife
at his side, who had paused next to
the Dervish.

“Birth is so unfair.” the Madman said.
The couple’s attention was quickly diverted from
the funeral to the dervish.
“What? What did you say?” the man asked.
“Birth is so unfair.” he repeated
“How can you possibly say that? My wife
will soon give birth and we are looking forward to
it with great joy! Unfair? Rubbish!”

The Madman turned to them and said,
“That man, was he not once born?”

“Well yes, of course he was. That is obvious”

“And since his life was brought to this untimely end,
before his daughter married, and grandchildren gathered
round,, was not his very birth the cause of his death, for
had he never been born, he never would have died.”

“Well, that is true, but if he had not been born, he never
would have married, had children, taught in the
Holy Sanctuary, enlightening his students and freeing their
hearts, who in turn have been teaching others. His books
will live for decades after him. How is that unfair, I ask you!”

“Well, he died did he not, and you said that death was unfair..”

“Death and life are contained within each other, you dolt!”
the young man shouted .
“If you live, you die! It is just that simple!”

“His timing was unfair then.” said the dervish.

“Ridiculous, the time is in God’s Hands, not ours. When it is time
it is time!”

“That being so, this was then unfair, how?”

The stillness was only broken by a donkey cart rattling
by on the road..

The dervish smiled.

“Your wife is about to bring your Love into this world.
Go and prepare to receive your child, and be
joyful. Fairness or unfairness have nothing to
do with beginnings and endings,
only with how we treat each other.”

The young couple nodded and hurried away.

The Madman looked into his big pocket to where
his kitten slept. He reached in and gently stroked Her
between the ears.
She rolled and stretched as best she could,

“mew””

“Indeed, Little One, and so it is.


TF ©27Aug2010