For God’s sake, for Reality
whose slave I am, I wield this sword.
The body does not command me,
nor does the lion of craving
overcome the lion of God.
Like a sword wielded by the sun,
I embody these words in war:
Thou didst not throw when thou threwest.
I’ve dropped the baggage of self.
That which is not God is nothing.
God is the sun, and I am a shadow.
Jewelled with the pearls of Union,
my sword brings life in battle, not death.
Blood will not dull my shinning sword;
nor will the wind blow my sky away.
I am not chaff but a mountain of patience.
What fierce wind could lift a mountain?
What the wind blows away is trash,
and winds blow from every side-
the winds of anger, lust, and greed
carry away those who do not keep
the times of prayer. I am a mountain,
and my being is His building.
If I am tossed like a straw,
it is His wind that moves me.
Only His wind stirs my desires.
My Captain is love of the One.
Anger is a king over kings,
but anger, once bridled, may serve.
A gentle sword struck the neck of anger.
God’s anger came on like mercy.

My roof in ruins; I drown in light.
Though called “the father of dust,”
I have grown like a garden.
And so I must put down my sword,
that my name might be He loves for God’s sake,
that my desire may be HE hates for God’s sake,
that my generosity might be He gives for God’s sake.
My stinginess is for God, as are my gifts.
I belong to God, not to anyone else;
and what I do is not a show,
not imagined, not thought up, but seen.
Set free from effort and searching,
I have tied my sleeve to the cuff of God-
if I am flying, I see where I fly;
if I am whirling, I know the axis on which I turn;
if I am dragging a burden, I know to where.
I am the moon, and the sun is in front of me.
I cannot tell the people more than this.
Can the river contain the Sea?