THE UNSEEN WEAVER

There’s a huge loom of Time, in duration;
Born of Infinity, from a consummation
With Life, which has never been void of time,
While Sun and Moon as shuttle upward climb.

By weaving to and fro as night and day,
A splendid pageant of coloured display,
Strung on the warp and weft of cosmic unity.
The back of this embroidered tapestry

Is monochrome, derived from that formless One.
It’s face is multihued, radiant as the Sun,
Its tones reflected from archetypal light,
All magically absorbed, an equalled sight.

Only what’s permitted by an unseen hand,
Appears as this moving panoramic band;
A rainbow painting of the whole wide world,
Brushed vertically: each single thread is whirled

Without the dimmest dint of dull duality;
Bright Light, unique to Self, sheer Reality!
Coated with golden fleece and sufi wool,
Dyed in the deepest vat of Destiny’s pool.

So does this sacred cloth, woven in Love,
Quarrel with its weaver who reigns above?
Wrapped in his Joseph cloak at rainbows’s end,
Eternal pilgrim ever loves his Mighty Friend.