On the clay of grandeur ebbs and flows the lights of knowledge from the orator of wisdom until it becomes so embedded with light that it hardens into celestial steel that obeys the West of expansion and supplicates itself to the East of resignation.

Words of men find no passageway in this enlightened sky where understanding has no increase.  

For it is held in the dawn of another day between which is a night that knows no sleep in a world without a place for it.

For here the Prophet has repaired to His home in the clouds of the sky which can only be ascended by faith tested by the mirage of disbelief,

only to then lay on the pillow of exasperation in the field of victory.

The people have been so encircled by the Scriptures of the past, that they do not know what to do once they hear the sacred streams from the Pen of Baha.
To whom do they turn among their former companions?
They ask: whose power can quench the song of this Sacred bird?
Whose sovereignty can allay the anguish of my soul?

The intellect will always fail to grasp wisdom.
Wisdom, the unutterable, is still an actor in emotion's stage.
Emotion's hero is a child.
The world's schoolyard doesn't wish to leave a child on it.

When Baha'u'llah said "be a companion of the Self of the Merciful", I knew it is that self that has an inner whiteness that reminds me of virgins' eyes.

Then He continued: "and from association with and resemblance to Satan", I knew He meant befriend all, judge no one, and bear the accusations of the ignorant.

Continuing, "enter beneath the sanctity of the Bountiful, that perchance the hand of Divine grace may draw thee away from the paths of passion unto the heavens of everlasting might and majesty".  With this finality I realized that One could use the holiness of the righteous along with love for all and Satan in the same sentence, and still open up heart's rose.

Righting beautiful wrongs.
His name comes forth as a poet.
A ship goeth upon the sublime sea.
First this wonder swims the cool streams.
Ship that it is, that becomes as one with time.
Here takes the shape of over there, that shipyard, that dock, those waves, and the mighty horizon.
No will to press for ship's sake save to meet another ship.
Wandering in the waves for water's ways.
The magnificent mystery of puzzles catches my eye.
While there is no other ship straying here I will becloud myself with this beauty encrested in man's reality.
What and how will I find a drizzle of a drop that he should proclaim to be truth.
Forth he finds who can hear him.
His name is Noble, the Middle Way, the Bridge.
Don't fall lad, don't fall.
Should the fall hurt, reflect on how one may not bleed again.

The light of the manifest heaven is, alas, as a breeze in the middle of the night.
The hellish blaze of former times still resonate in my heart.
Knowledge is as a copious fountain in the Earth's riverbed,
And wisdom grows on every vine even if it dwells upon the dust.
The measurement of time is the only level left between the people of the world.
Seeing clearly the brighter side

Light, not heavy.
Light, not dark.

Heavy, not knowing.
Dark, yet to be seen.

Wonder, amazing.
Complex, simple.
Tacit and discrete.

Notes and ears.
Lines, shapes, changes to equations.