"Images Abound! "

A Poem for Baharak They say the music plays without a destination. They say the Heaven's Gate is shut tightly and locked. They say six converging paths enter a huge meadow in the lowlands. You will lose your way, and blind with fear, huddle in an unforgiving darkness. They say the hill you climb the next morning will trap you in a pathless forest occupied by a murder of crows. They say by the second day's end you will have lost resolve to find the Chapel of Beginnings. They say your faith cannot withstand these tests. My friend, do not listen to their terrorist words. Their speech is meant to defeat you. They are lapsed pilgrims who have lost every tendril of faith that once connected them to shining hope. Stragglers have broken free of their control, and have left behind this company of despair. They greet you with famished hopes, they share their meager provisions with you, they sing in cracked voices of their escape. "Join us! " They cry. "We are the self-rescued ones." Not even rain clouds massing overhead can dampen your high spirits. Soggy ground makes you stumble again and again, chill air bites your face, but you rejoice in your success in the company of the self-rescued ones. The French song you sing softly in the twilight will reach my hearing like a cherished memory. A pair of angels will reassure you the Heaven's Gate always swings open in a celestial breeze. All six paths lead to the welcoming homestead of the Green People, who will tenderly give you sweet water to drink and magic mushrooms to eat to ease your stress. When you enter the Dark Places, courage will not abandon you and the light within will guide you unerringly. Crows will scatter at your approach. And nestled in a green valley you will see the Chapel. The air will resound with welcoming music sung by your new friends who greet you from your new home.