A.Q. Faizi on Pioneers and the Guardian, continued
2008 Nov 04, 01 Qudrat 165 BE
It is the 51st Anniversary of the death of Shoghi Effendi today. While an election in the US is hogging the attention of the media, this Badi' blog turns its gaze to an epoch making event, one that surely in the long run will be seen as far more significant. We have already featured the first essay by Mr. Faizi, and today we will enjoy the final part of what is surely one of the smallest Baha'i books ever published. He continues to look out over the waters at the southern tip of South America, grieving in poetic language the loss of the Guardian at the midpoint of the Ten Year Crusade.
from: Three Meditations on the Eve of November the Fourth BY A. Q. Faizi, Fletcher and Son, Norwich, England, 1970, pp. 28-33
But look around:
Are not these ravishing spectacles of majesty and might,
Immensity and height,
But a token of the two eternal oceans of spiritual lineage of that "Most wondrous, unique and priceless pearl that doth gleam from out the twin surging seas"?
Are not the vast horizons hued and framed in green and red, signs of the most cherished memories that he had of his Beloved, "The Exalted One"?
Was it not through the lustre of this pearl that heroes and conquerors were made out of the commonest clay? Did not his words well up from the depths of his loving heart and pierce all hearts deep in the core, so that out of swamps of heedlessness, pioneers and knights were born?
Through the magic of his clarion-call, the spells of lethargy were broken and the dreamless dust became heaven-lit with the sweetest dreams, the realization of each one becoming the water of life to many a thirsty soul.
His love will shield generations from fear and will increasingly and permanently cause many legions of steadfast and stalwart knights to spring free from the snares and pursuit of material comfort to the arenas of honourable death or resplendent victory.
Through the ingenious application of his loving advice, the abandoned and distressed, the forlorn and forsaken, will find shelter in the sunshine of God's Universal Love.
We all remember the last melody he sang -- it echoed the onward march of the intrepid soldiers of the Army of Life, whom we all watched while our eyes brimmed with tears of joy.
He invited mankind to many sumptuous joyful banquets, spread in the Name of their Redeemer, but alas! whoever suspected that at the zenith of his plan, the midway point of his crusade, there would creep a dark and dreary shadow which would break all cords, shatter all the golden bridges of hope, lay the harps broken and bruised at the feet of the guests and alter all the music meant for mirth and merriment into sobbing, buried in the bosom of long and lonesome nights of desperate separation?
Tortured to the quick by the speedy flight of the most precious hours of Man's life the weary traveller uttered words to the night as if in delirium:
Where is the depth of man's ignorance?
Where is the abyss of his downfall?
Oh Night! Deep, mysterious night!
Reveal stories of the fateful hours which took wing from out your bosom. Grant them as gifts to this homeless and humble voyager.
Like unto ancient troubadours tell him some tales of old, even if his blood run cold. He ventures to request while he still feels free and bold.
The night mourned and groaned like unto a mortally-wounded bird:
Hold up your goblet -- I see it brimming with tears. Receive this drop from the depths of the wild darkness of the past and then yours will be a nectar hitherto unheard and untasted.
It was at a time when Man, the essence of negligence and pride, started sending satellites to probe into the silent realms above while
His heaven and haven
His beloved and benevolent true and sincere brother
was lying in bed unrecognized and unsought for.
Yes, this is the sad story of bewildered humanity.
"It was during that summer when man, victim to the ruthless scourging of his never-ending animal lusts and desires became enchanted, nay bewitched, by the song which he sang all the summer long. Consumed in the fire and flame of his wild pursuit of passion and shame heedlessly he went on.
"Thousands and thousands were hurled into their graves, but nothing could stop time from rolling on towards that gloomy dawn. Even if all would kneel and beg the Lord to accept them as sacrifices, that portentous moment could not be advanced or delayed. Seven seas of the blood of martyrs could not wash away the dust of despondency accumulated upon the illustrious pearl of the two divine oceans!
"Yes, in that ominous hour came to pass that which dimmed all souls and devastated the rose garden of all hearts. Ever since then the tongues never stop uttering 'Beloved', and souls burn in the fire of longing to touch the hem of his attire, or to have one -- only one -- glimpse of his heavenly countenance.
`What heart can remain sterile rock, unmoved and untouched at this hour?
`What soul has no zest and fervour and is not deeply moved at this moment?
`The most wondrous, unique and priceless pearl that doth gleam from out the twin surging seas',
was quietly taken back to its eternal abode in the celestial treasure houses of the Lord".
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