Despite the ineffability of the mystical experience, those that have seen the Ultimate Reality often cannot stop talking about it. Indeed, the art that springs forth from those that have experienced the mystical is often some of the most beautiful pieces ever created by humans. Wishing for others to see reality the same way they have seen, extraordinary works, often of poetry, spring forth. Below are just a few of the poems inspired by those who say they have reached an ultimate, divine, ecstatic union with God.
We have Rumi, who describes the process of awakening as:
There is a worm
addicted to eating grape leaves.
Suddenly, he wakes up,
call it grace, whatever, something
wakes him, and he is no longer a worm.
He is the entire vineyard,
and the orchard too, the fruit, the trunks,
a growing wisdom and joy
that does not need to devour.
Then there is Mirabai, who complains that no one understands the divine love that she feels:
I am mad with love
And no one understands my plight.
Only the wounded
Understand the agonies of the wounded,
When the fire rages in the heart.
Only the jeweller knows the value of the jewel,
Not the one who lets it go.
In pain I wander from door to door,
But could not find a doctor.
Says Mira: Harken, my Master,
Mira’s pain will subside
When Shyam comes as the doctor.
We can also turn to Harez, who speaks of the joy of union:
And
For no reason
I start skipping like a child.And
For no reason
I turn into a leaf
That is carried so high
I kiss the sun’s mouth
And dissolve.And
For no reason
A thousand birds
Choose my head for a conference table,
Start passing their
Cups of wine
And their wild songbooks all around.And
For every reason in existence
I begin to eternally,
To eternally laugh and love!When I turn into a leaf
And start dancing,
I run to kiss our beautiful Friend
And I dissolve in the Truth
That I Am.
And while not a self-proclaimed mystic, Khalil Gibran was deeply inspired by the Sufis. He writes:
Then said Almitra, Speak to us of Love.
And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For 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 caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself
He threshes you to make your naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred 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 secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.
But if in your heart you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your 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.”
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart 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;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
And let us finally be inspired by Juliann of Norwich,
I desired many times to know our Lord’s meaning. And fifteen years after and more, I was answered in spiritual understanding, and it was said:
What, do you wish to know our Lord’s meaning in this thing? Know it well, Love was his meaning.
Who reveals it to you? Love.
What did he reveal to you? Love.
Why does he reveal it to you? For Love.
Remain in this, and you will know more of the same.
But you will never know different, without end.
So I was taught that Love is our Lord’s meaning. And I saw very certainly in this and in everything that before God made us, he loved us, which Love was never abated and never shall be.
If there is one unifying theme across all the mystics, it is that everything, God, you, me, this Universe, is love. We can break our own hearts so wide open an undying eternal limitless love bursts forth.
