Arfud, Akhtar

Taking a mystical path can really be exhausting and frustrating. But whenever I get this way, after I engage in a brief pity party with chocolate or gossip, I try to acknowledge that perhaps my seed is cracking open.

There are two words I have chosen to adopt to describe this process:

Arfud - I refuse

Akhtar - I choose

Using another language, in this case, the sacred Arabic language of so many masters, tricks my mind into listening a little harder.

English is the language of my left-brained self and my right-brained spirit, two forces ever-ready to hurl words like watermelon seeds, widespread and aimed to hit anything in my nearby vicinity.

These two words arose in a morning meditation inside this poem. Enjoy, but first, I hope it pisses you off a little.

~ Trish

If you can’t see Christ in your brother,

Give your ego back it’s glasses

And then

Go rinse your eyes of any agenda

That may have built up there

To see purely is not to see

What presents itself

But to see

What has been forgotten

Refuse to see what stands before you

Dangling a carrot in front of your hungry heart

Choose instead to see the seed

Of love that simply needs your light

To call it forward