Most Great Prison

As mentioned on the two previous posts, i had three poems that i saw together. This one, Most Great Prison, is the third of those poems. Bahá'u'lláh was imprisoned within His cell for two years, two months and five days. i had the bounty of seeing that cell under three occasions. Once in the oppressive heat of July, once when it was still cold in March and then once in May. i have seen it in a condition that was poor and run down and most recently in a restored condition.
This Holy site has had an impact on me from the time i was 16 to now. We are not able to see the Siyya-Chal, the first prison He was in as that is in Iran. The other Holy places are the homes that He lived in. It is this cell that brings to heart the immense suffering that He endured.
Quoting from the Fire Table, in writing about Bahá'u'lláh it states:

"Were it not for calamity, how would the sun of Thy patience Shine, O light of the Worlds?"



Most Great Prison

The sea crashes into the wall
Standing before that citadel tall
Within that citadel rests
A prison cell, stark at best

Standing at that door
Peering in
Two years,
Two month,
Five days,
He was kept within

So much occurred
Within these walls
To the Shah of Persia
He sent His call

The loss of a son
So precious and dear
Sacrificed so others
Could come near

Stifling heat of summer
Bitter cold of winter
Passing again and again
Sorrows upon sorrows
Adding one upon another
Effecting son, daughter,
Friend and brother

Entering the cell
Standing in wonder
How mankind
Could allow such a crime
Imprisoning One
So Divine

Drops fall from eyes
Falling one by one
The soul lamenting
At what had been done

Seated and praying
With head bowed low
Wistfully wishing
For the suffering to go
Alas that was then
Now it is time
To proclaim His name
To teach His cause
To overcome the shame
Of imprisoning the Bearer
Of the Most Great Name

shiidon, October 2007

Sacred Ground

This is the second of three poems that i see going together. The first being the poem Akka which describes those trying to attain Bahá'u'lláhs presence. This poem is about inside the Citadel. It is in the first room that an area is marked off that sits directly bellow a skylight. It was here that Bahá'u'lláh's son, Mirza Mihdí, fell and mortally injured himself. Bahá'u'lláh, being a Manifestation of God could have healed his son, as he had done for others, however, Mirza Mihdí asked his Father to allow his life to be a sacrifice so that the believers would be allowed to come and visit Him. His wish was granted and he passed away. He was known by the title The Purest Branch. He is now laid to rest, beside his mother, in a place of honor in Haifa before the world administrative buildings of the Bahá'í Faith.

Sacred Ground

The light broken as in a prism
Climbing those steps in
The Most Great Prison
The beating sun
Strikes down
On ancient stones
Worn and brown

Each step up
Climbing to heaven
Past and present interwoven

Enter the door
And on the floor
Stands sacred ground
Bellow the light
Of the skylight
A heart wrenching sight

It was here not long ago
The Purest Branch let go
Of his earthly life
After years of strife

Begging his Father
For one last wish
That pilgrims may come
The request unselfish

Tears of love
Were shared that day
The sacrifice
of personal price
opening the door
for many a score
of visitors to come

Visitors came
and like a river flow
to this day
the numbers grow
The pilgrim can be found
Praying fervently
At that sacred ground

shiidon, October 2007

Akka

Keeping in the theme of the City of Akka, i have the first two of three poems here that i see as somewhat related. The first one is Akka. When Bahá'u'lláh was sent to the prison city of Akka it was ordered that He not receive any visitors. Pilgrims would arrive from Iran, mostly by foot, only to find in most cases that they would have to satisfy themselves with a distant view of His hand waving to them from His prison Cell in the Citadel of Akka. This was sufficient to galvanize many of those souls and returning to Iran they would redouble their efforts in serving Him.

Akka

From a distance one can see
That prison cell by the sea
By day and night
From that distant land
They would walk for a sight
Of His blessed hand

No one knew their lot
Seeing Him or not
Content they were
At the thought
Of attaining Him
Even from afar
The chances slim
Of going within

A wave of the hand
From that prison cell
Bringing ones heart to swell
And with utmost joy
Turning away
and by night and day
return home on fire
with one desire
to serve Him to the last
ever steadfast

shiidon, October 2007

House of Abud

The final place of exile for Bahá'u'lláh was the prison city of Akka in what is now Israel. He spent His first years in a cell under harsh conditions. Following that, after moving from place to place over the duration of a few months He resided in what is now known as the House of Abud. The room that He resided in is one that struck me in its simplicity and yet majestic feel. Words are inadequate to describe the feeling that comes to me when i am in that room. Having said that, this simple poem that follows makes an attempt to do so.

House of Abud

Many who stood
Before the house of Abud
Waited for the chance
The hope of a glance
Of the Blessed Beauty
If perchance
He spoke ones name
A clear invitation to
Join Him that day

An echo of those days
Passing within
The pilgrim stands and
Takes it all in

Along the white wall
The stairway does climb
An ascent to heaven
Does one find
His Blessed chamber
Enshrined

Shear curtains sway
Dancing with
The light of day
Through the windows
Can be seen
The city wall and
The deep blue sea

The room glows with light
The colors, breeze and movement
A beautiful sight

The majesty and glory
Of that quiet room
Overwhelm any throne
So overtly shown

A power still radiates
From that room
As though remembering
That Blessed One, whom
Lived and revealed
His sacred words
That can now be found
Throughout the world

Shiidon, October 2007

Universal House

This poem is the second of two on this theme. i have struggled somewhat with this one. i have been wanting to write about the members of the Universal House of Justice and their sacrificial lives in service. However, it comes back to the Institution instead. There are reasons for everything as my mother always says. i have met with the Universal House of Justice as a pilgrim on three occasions and it has been a thrilling experience. They are the "Head of the Faith" and are established directly from the Pen of Bahá'u'lláh. It is a truly divine Institution. Needless to say, i have a deep love for this Institution. They are living examples of a line in a prayer that i hold dear and i aspire to live up to:

"Make me as dust in the pathway of Thy loved ones, and grant that i may offer up my soul for the earth ennobled by the footsteps of Thy chosen ones in Thy path, O Lord of Glory in the Highest."

Universal House

Oh Bahá’u’lláh!
With deep pondering
The covenant we do see
The way it has come from You to me
Today it stands strong
Tried and tested
It has never gone wrong

With awe we reflect
On the wisdom
That did erect
That most great House
Arising from Your Pen
The system put in place
To benefit the human race

Today in unending chain
Your mission does reign
Our hearts long to be with You
Yet in a way it is true
For You have never left
We are not bereft
For Your words live among us
Through the covenant and
It’s Universal House of Justice

shiidon, October 2007

Child of the Hands

After the passing of Mr. Varqá i have reflected much on the fact that the Hands of the Cause have left us. i have thought of this day for many years. i was certain that i would see this day after the passing of Mr. Olinga and Dr. Muhajer. They were the two youngest of that body, the latter being my mothers cousin. Aside from the personal loss when those two died i realized that i would most likely outlive the rest of the Hands and indeed that has come to pass.

i have been studying the Bahá'í Covenant regarding succession and the promise of no schisms from Bahá'u'lláh Himself for the past few months. It amazes me how continuously His promise has been fulfilled. The most interesting time was the time between the passing of the Guardian and the election of the Universal House of Justice in that during that time there was no head of the Faith. The Hands of the Cause, true to their responsibility of being Chief Stewards of the Faith, steered the Faith by completing the remaining years of the Guardians Ten Year Crusade culminating in the election of the first Universal House of Justice.

The awareness has come to me that i am a child of those Hands of the Cause in that i was born during that difficult time. i have met many of them and had close interaction with two of them that brought me joy. In many ways i feel left behind and at the same time feel that i need to convey stories about my experiences with these blessed souls. i shook Mr. Varqá's hand and had the bounty to hear him on two occasions on my Pilgrimage last year (May of 2006).
Here is a poem inspired by my meditations.

Child of the Hands

Born at a time
Before the Nine
That would lead us
for all time
After the Pearl
In times of peril
Came to life
Amidst strife

Born beneath the shelter
Protecting all
The Hands of the Cause
Stood tall
Guiding, directing all
At the helm of Faith
To London’s gate
When destiny fulfilled
Evincing faith

Alas their time
Is now past
It was destiny
Not to last
Remaining a child
Of those Hands

Teach the cause
Without pause
With obedience
Overcome impedance
Bringing joy to
Those Hands of the Cause

shiidon, September 2007