Ruhi and Such

Here are some poems i wrote a few years ago

Eternal Beauty

Blessed Youth whose wisdom surpassed the learned

words flowed as endless streams

tempering the hearts

towards martyrdom

stood before the court to herald the new age

“I am, I am, I am the Promised One!”

He cried

a Gate for the Blessed Beauty

the Holy Spirit flowed through His veins

raging, pulsating river that it is

flowing into the Bayán

foundation for the Ark Of Salvation

 Ruhi Book 4

The Mission

In Persia arose

God’s Glory

kings and priests

stood against Him

imprisoned Him

love exudes

from Him

the people

love Him

spiritual strength

aided Him

to lead

to teach


one family

A New Life


boiling to grasp

can you see

souls reach for the love

can you hear

sweet honey flowered words

can you smell

soft velvet pages

can you feel

taste each moment of

Bahá’u’lláh’s life as He

has just begun to live


Simple miracles happen each day

a child is given to us to raise

to love and hold we claim

never have the dreams remain

Gate of God maintains

to the majestic reigns

a child is His pain


Dawn comes

nightingales sing

to blooming roses

Prophets cry

for coming pain

God’s Glory paces

in moonlit, flower-bordered ave.

Ridván’s everlasting glory

The Gate opened for

the Promised One to cry out

I Am Here

who can sleep when

they are afire


untold misery

gave way to the Choice Wine

lighting paths

of the wayward

toward the Qiblih

glimpses of a holy Hand

soothed hungry souls

until the Divine Presence

soothed a restless land

The Purest Branch (Mirzá Míhdí)

In a moment

life began

youngest child

purest soul

youthful devotion

to a Father’s Mission

exiled to Akká



opportunity for mediation

evening walk

on a barracks roof

prayer and devotion

the roof gave way

a word from The Blessed Beauty

would heal

but no

a dying wish

people of Bahá

will see their beloved

God approved

a wish was granted


O people of Bahá

the Right of God is yours

take hold

God’s Gate gave us this bounty

take hold

God’s Glory affirmed it

take hold

with joy radiance and good-pleasure

take hold

or not at all

take hold

“free of all attachment to this vain and empty world”

take hold, take hold, take hold

the Right of God is His

take hold

Compilation on the Huqúqu’lláh

The Concourse

On broken wings

we try to fly,

toward salvation.

Angelic cohorts are called

to help our slow flight

for a heavenly aim

is our goal!

To reach our Host,

our Healer,

our Guide-

we reach through

the Word

on broken wings

we share through

the Word

our Lord

helps us fly

Coming of Age

the lost youth cries

for his Father.

while seeking his soul

no more hollow thrills

to tease mortality

yearning to hear

that Blessed Youth’s words

to heal a anguished heart

crying seizing

a moment’s hope

for a soul’s redemption

the lost youth cries

for his Lord.

Days pass

longing grows

for love’s door

to open.

The Ancient Beauty


with hands outstretched

by the Door-

to open a heart

torn and filled with the

liquid of malice.

A chalice waits

for the opening of

the Choice Wine

unsealed by Mary’s bidding.

We Wait for

Christ’s love

to open

the Gate

to the Nightingale’s song

singing of the

King’s return

A New Age

waiting by the Door

widow’s ivory tears

flow through hallowed halls

the Concourse trembles

at the Báb’s whisper

the oak bows its mighty branch

in humble submission

vines reach for the blessed rays

His whisper heralds

the New Age

the Promised One

has Come

Forgive Me

O Lord forgive me

for thoughts unspoken

of someone other than you.

O Lord forgive me

for seeking praise

instead of praising You.

O Lord forgive me

the ungentle word said

the touch unkind.

O Lord forgive me

“I beg Thy forgiveness, O my God”

Baha’i prayer by The Báb


The Nightingale’s song


through each soul


multitudes crave the sweet


the song sung for ages past


the song is for you



Oh Nightingale

sing your song to the deafened masses.

So they may learn to hear the Sweet Melody-

in-blazon hearts with words of exaltation.

Let your song fill the night,

guide us by day,

to a home in

The Kingdom.


Holy hearts

tempered with tests

lead the longing souls

to the Gate

that opens to

a New Age

blessed few crawl

through the

burning sand

to glimpse the eyes of a



in His Father’s

majestic reign

hour of dawn



boiling blood coursed

through veins

believers embrace

Glory of God


through the Gate

giving life to


my prayer

travel with me, Oh My Lord!

On my journey of Self,

take my hand to guide me

through the dark nether of my mind,

help me win my struggle of passion

to find Your dwelling place,

travel with me, Oh My Lord!

As trials test my soul and the darkness

enshrouds me – be my Lantern.

So i may discern the true Knowledge

a Knowledge so wondrous

as to free me from tests

travel with me, Oh My Lord!

To learn to be your servant;

to see the world bright and joyous

affection and fellowship to be my tools;

to find You and take Your Hand

never to speak except by your leave

travel with me, Oh My Lord!

As i leave this world of dust

trembling before You i reach out

in a endless sea of tears of

those who showed pride before Your Countenance

travel with me, Oh My Lord!

Guide me away from myself.


they say you watch me

when i sleep and when i wake

but why

i am but a glimpse in time

no great works do i produce

no people sway at my words

i will fade into dust

but Your Omnipotent eyes watch


do i interest you

is there a secret

what imports could I have



abstract concepts

wave through my conscious state

i give you my soul

as i walk through the Door

blinding light

guides my steps

gale winds

calm my mind

consciousness gives way

Faith remains


Raise up a ladder,

from your soul.

To the heavens

of joyous

singing praises


Lord has come!

Oh Lord,

i feel the weight

of the chains

of this world-

weighing me down.

a cast iron heart

that lets out no light-

in my chest.

my feet ache from

the burning sand

Never will i truly know

what You endured

in this sin ladened world.

It is You who shows me

how to stand,

enables me to walk,

and endure the pain i see.

As i walk and learn

to sing of praise

and pray others will

join my song.



what is that?

Zeus throwing lighting down upon us all?

The Navajo ancestors crawling from a hole in the ground?

Medical Professionals who can mend all the broken pieces of your life?


it’s a crying hungry child wanting some one to keep them warm.

It’s hard working people living on the streets.

It’s parents hurting their children.

These must be myths

how can they exist

in a world where

people say

they care.

closed door I stand hands pressed against the crystalline glass

diffused warmth seeps through

warming my soul

but it is through the darkness

the brilliance of the dove who reflects the true dawn

which has come

song rings in the hearts

today is the day

each moment strengths our resolve

God’s Glory cannot be contained

a Hidden Treasure that wants to be known to all

none can tell that of what is told

we cry for our Lord

come the chalice of my heart

waits to hear your call

those who walked with the Persians

tasted the Most Sweet Wine

directly from His Lips

give us a tale

a glimpse into the

tremulous time

may we be worthy

may our hearts be clean

that we may touch the Robe

feel the power

that flowed though the veins

of the martyrs’ souls

give us a tale

tell us of the joy

that no sultan could hold

secretly though the streets

hidden paths we see

through the eyes

of a seekers pen

a Guardian tells us all

of pain and joy

of Gods Call

The Master

Humble servant of mankind,

the Lord strengthened your soul.

Flowers bloom as you walk.

Gentle sweet tongue, guided a infant cause.

A call cried out to the west for the east

pioneers to a foreign land

came to serve their Lord!

At your hearkening call

offering up their life and soul

Each page we turn

a glimpse, into your soul.

How jealous i am of Thompsons’ tale,

the time she spent,

how you guided her soul

and changed her life.

Your picture smiles at me as i walk by,

unworthy of your praise.

You are wrapped in a simple gown

but to my eyes its made of gold.

Gentle eyes watch me in a photo frame,

wake from this nightmarish dream.

Into your rose garden reality

Your Father, Father of us all, called you the Master,

but you proclaimed the Servants title

modest in your towering strength

that tells how to live this life.

With only ourselves to blame,

no acts of demons,

no possessions tales,

we are a creature of choice.

Hollow empty halls or a

Garden beside You

“A sacred passion … growing in my heart”[i]

as I turn each page,

you from a land

that tells women not to speak,

you gave a voice and helped removed the veil

Juliet tells us of your call

“speak-speak to Me.”

You lived your life like

you never knew pain,

yet your suffering was great

it would break any who

know not of the Lords

dawning place.

To the martyrs’ you gave strength

and to their families

you strengthened their resolve.

The Lords energy and Commanding hand

surged thru their veins

blessing all who touched your presence,

friend or foe alike.

For endless pages

could i write;

Your heart so warm,

Your forgiveness infinite.

We who are Your spiritual descendants

of this Radiant Cause,

look back and see

how you lived

a Humble Servant

Bless us

please ask

the Lord

for forgiveness to

unworthy souls

Diary of Juliet Thompson

i pray for Your Mercy

for my sinful soul

it is dark and my blood runs cold

i know not who i’ve harmed

with a wicked tongue i am charmed

split and hissing as a serpent

yet not as gentle as Your creatures crawl

venomous and deadly are words unspoken

even more those

said in malice behind closed doors

Your Mercy is unbefitting me

yet i ask for Your Grace

as you are my King

i kneel here drowning in sin

without your love my life would surely end

toward the east I turn

trembling and forsaken

in a land where gold rules

the new has the wicked slant

to the gods of old they chant

split and hissing as serpents tongue

curb our tongues

so we may know the honeyed words

sung by The Nightingales song

clean our hearts

of this sewers sludge

so we may know our hearts are radiant and clean

that we may kneel down before

our King

My Effendi

Oh young pearl,

you shine brilliantly

among the call of the sirens,

the Guardian of my heart.


your own youthful leadership,

humble in your ability

to lead a mighty crusade.

But, the Master gave the reins to you,

a Star among us

gave us the plan

in meticulous detail.

Western liberals forgot their place

in designing a new world.

Arrogant in their views, they were

awe inspired by the Servants gentle touch.

Hands heralded,

assemblies heard your call-

forming foundations for my children

to build Heavens’ Gate.

Order must be established,

plans to dictate each passing phase,

ground plans for

a World Order

of Baha’u’llah!

The Kingdom Has Come

oh Russia knew

‘Ishqábád gloried in the new cause

the Kingdom of Heaven

has come to earth

they stood

as we stand today

a moments glimpse

to the future of humankind

all religions are one

together they lived

a golden time

temples and meeting houses

all for a fledgling faith

a moments glimpse

then repression

all religions are gone

God is banished from the land

and only pain remained


your flowing dress touching the floor

radiance of your smile

fills childhood memories

gem stones on miniature stairs

a rose garden

bringing Ridvan to our desert home

each flower I see

I think of you

But the question remains

How did your cats breathe

without noses?

For Ruth Bronson







my beloved Knight

the call was made

our Guardian summand all

to reach out and touch the world

Africa saw your strength

that Juliet saw

as she kneeled at your side

in your youthful days

the greatest sacrifice

a son you lost

he now sits by His side

watching you

with the love

you give in your prayers

when you pray for me

it gives me a strength

i have never known

your presence

in our mist

gives life to a world in turmoil

how many years you have seen

the faith as it grows

you helped place the stones

of its foundation

I reach out to you

my example

my hero

with all my love and prayers

may i be worthy

may i follow in your steps

and build the Kingdom

you helped found

For Evelyn Walters Knight of Baha’u’llah

My dearest friend


as a child I sat on your knee

you are a wise and prophetic giant

i spilled grape juice on your new white couch

you smiled so gently shaking your head

each year I grew

your wise counsel grew

my mom’s hand in yours

as we laid my father to rest

walking with me down the street

hearing my pain

comforting my sorrows

strong and out spoken

with Táhirih’s lead

a woman of strong boundaries

‘I’ve been raised once

and I don’t share’

the words you taught me

in a world of men

your mothers warning telling you

that no man will ever allow it

yet you found a man

who did not cower from your strength

but would stand and walk by your side

and now I hear

like my father

you are preparing to leave this world

an illusion in the sight of God

your strength and resolve

guides all

who have been blessed

with your healing touch

your example in the face of death

lends courage to a world

that laments your loss

i do not cry for you

but for my selfish wants

i want you to remain

my guide in this world

i will miss you and

it is for me that i cry

For Eleanor Person to whom I owe so much.


You leave me with questions

Why did fathers own their wives

Their daughters

Why could men strike those they claim to love

You leave me with questions

We are equal today

Why were we not equal before

What pain my mothers knew

You leave me with questions

Why are girls sold for another pay

Left to die in favor of a male heir

Mutilated in traditions sake

You leave me with questions

Did the Quran proclaim men are exalted over women

Did Peter proclaim the silence of women

Did You ordain this

You leave me with questions

Am I more aware than my mothers mother

Do I hold any station in this illusionary world

Is my voice silenced by a thousand years of pain

You leave me with questions

You leave me with questions

You leave me with tears

The Dove

The dove weeps

for it has forgotten how to fly,

one wing is that of man

the other is woman.

The man strong and independent

excelling over the woman.

Once thought to be dominant,

superior over creation.

Words of scripture

tell how they are to protect women.

The wing of woman

weak in the sight of man.

Some believed them

to be the lowest of creation.

Animals exceed her worth

in many lands of this world

property of men

to be disposed of as they please.

She must teach the young

how to be strong and learned

without tools she will fail

in her sacred duty.

She is the other wing

as long as she is undeveloped

they cannot soar

to the height of paradise.

In this lonely place only

Dante’s inferno

will we remain.


today is the day

no ground will be left unbroken

we will stand

in northern lands

southern lands

eastern lands

western lands

the weaker sex

as it has been deemed

has found her voice

and she cries out

i am here!

my Lord has called

i too was made

in the Exalting image

my soul reaches for the stars



violent abuse

we now say NO

and now more than ever


we will stand together

to herald the age

of equality

we the handmaidens

of our Lord

take our sacred charge

teach the future

and raise the call

that we are one

Raise up Your Voice

Sing your praise

God gave you the right

No man can take it away

Sing your praise

To Him who gave you the song

Gave you the ears

Sing your praise

Rejoice in His name


Washing my hands I look in the mirror

But I don’t recognize the woman looking back

I stop and stare

But who is she?

Her hair is long as mine very light in color

But who is she

I don’t recognize her

Eyes, smile, frown or face

Who is she?

Did I never stop to meet her before

Or did I not care

Who is this woman in the mirror

Friend or foe?

Both perhaps?

Will she help me or hurt me

Is this woman in the mirror of

Heaven or Hell?


My Ancestors

Silently you stood behind veil

of subordinate calling

the men stood before you,

but you taught them how to command!

It is your backbone that civilization relied on

in each ages new dawn.

Mary blessed among women,

strengthening call,

but proclaiming that women are less the men?

Now it is time for us to take command

a new dawn has come

the facts lay plain.

You my ancestors

taught the boys how to lead.

Now the girls take the reins.

Even in this new ages dawning moment

women’s strength

leads the call.

But only a glimpse remains in our history

Of each woman’s championing

Unknowable strength in championing this cause

The Most Exalted Leaf

 Oh Navváb hear my call,

teach me your powering strength.

Fragmented memories in time

are given to us,

but you are blessed

among women.

In my mind

i see you through

the image of a child,

she the Greatest Holy Leaf.

Devotion and resolve

are your legacy.

You touched the Fiery Soul

that brought us to

a ground breaking Revelation.

Through every obstacle

you stood a firm example

to all.

Each woman will take charge-

one by one.

To lead a fledging faith,

teaching a cause,

the cause of God,

even if it is in silent memories.


Your eyes pierce my soul,

radiant as your Brother.

Ground breaking as any martyr,

each leaf feeds the branches.

Greatest Holy Leaf

you make the Tree of Bahá shine.

I walk in your shadow

trembling with each step,

wishing for your

towering strength.


the Lords calling

with your lead

we follow,

each of us

your spiritual children.

You are a kind and gentle mother

may my heart be worthy of your love.


We grew up together

separated only by space

born into a radiant cause,

you championed

while I took for granted.

Your prayers guided souls

mine was not immune.

In my youth group

we listened to your story

my reaction was one of anger.

Turning my back on you,

my faith.

I wallowed in my own anger

at the injustice I saw.

You followed the silent

heroines of ages past.

Their blood strengthened the soil

of the Divine Lote Tree,

giving life to each new leaf.

I thank you now for your prayers,

you helped guide me home.

But still I feel the pain

the tears still come

when I hear your name.

Now I still mourn

the world’s loss

of your gentle touch

and sweet voice.


What does it mean

that we as a people

use our machines to glorify ourselves,

instead of our Creator??

The machine tells us to capitalize

I but not god??


should it not be

the other way as


is greater than


Nightingale cries

Siyyah Chal

Concourse sings

Nightingale’s words

waft over ears

Concourse cries



Dawn comes

nightingales sing

to blooming roses

Prophets cry

for coming pain

God’s Glory paces

in moonlit, flower-bordered ave.

Ridván’s everlasting glory

The Gate opened for

the Promised One to cry out

I Am Here

who can sleep when

they are afire

“O thou Helper of the feeble, succorer of the poor”

from the dust and clay

were we molded

with the Water of

Divine Attributes

with the Hands of

Divine Wisdom

the clay has become

dry and parched

the Hands can not

move it

it is a rock

devoid of attributes and wisdom

the dam that held the

Divine Waters has burst

but the clay so dry

it holds to the golden

minerals and calls them


forgotten is the true meaning

from the Waters and Hands

the Water seeps through the cracks

of this rock

quenching the parched

throat of the dust

as it longs for the Water

waiting to be molded

the Water penetrates ever deeper

even some forsake the minerals

for the Water

as it soaks in

soon the Hands of Wisdom

will break apart

this rock of clay and dust

to remove the impurities

that will not absorb

The Water

the Hands Gentle and Graceful

with Love and Justice

begin kneading the clay

exposing the

foolish and erring

as the dry and worthless

to the dust that is

drinking of the

Divine Waters

only now, it realizes

how long it has waited for

the Sculptors Hands

Quote from a prayer for tMartyrs And Their Families by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá

A note

it is the time of

the Kingdom

but the darkness

has veiled all views

of its construction

and the Beloved Nightingale

has left us on this plane

looking around

i feel lost

unable to act

in this land of

the deaf and blind

seeking to use gold

to enter heaven’s gate

devoid of unity of action

lacking obedience

i cry at my powerlessness

to affect any change

poor as a teacher

i call on the Concourse

and still seem to fail

is my soul so weak

that i affect no one

wanting so much to leave

a legacy of hope behind me

of faith and obedience

and yet what am i

a piece of dust

the wind has scattered

At the Store

 Looking at the lemons

People shuffling by

in winter attire

look over and a face

not seen, up close, in 20 years

from my childhood

still very much the same

he recognized me

we hugged, a friendly hug

talking for a minute

about our children

what we do now

his pause

“We were awful to you”

Smiling “that was life”

“No, I’m sorry, you deserve to hear it”

Now home, alone


The dawn prayer

At dawn gathered in a old hotel,
named for the glorious state in which it sits.
Leaves of red and yellow mingle with the green,
heralding fall’s call.
Maintained rustic building stands,
perhaps almost the same
as when the Master’s feet
graced the floors,
gentle footprints of a
Spiritual Giant.
Surrounded by furniture from day past,
a single portrait hangs in the hall
to mark what will be seen as
the most important –
most glorious moment
of its history.
A few of the multitude of those
who pray to serve as He served
gather to pray,
no implore for an audience
with His spirit.
An ancient recording-
scratchy, monotone, recording plays-
The chant of a hundred years ago!

I sat in the room,
we sat in a room;

As Abdul-Bahá burst though
his voice reached into my soul
the tears came
the river flowed
as the nearby Colorado river flows.
Unable to move, unaware of my own breath,
time lost meaning,
i was alone-

in that room full of people,
as every sorrow, every joy
I had ever known were laid before me.

As dust I was powerless
the time is lost devoid of meaning.

Still at the end of this day
My hands still tremble

Desert Rose

dryness permeates the sand
the suns first rays
shatter utter darkness
lizard’s scurry toward
the oasis
followed closely by the
a heavenly compound stands
a solid mirage
as though dreamt
by a lost, thirsty traveler
a gazebos open air invitation
3 benches offered rest for
birds and travlers
a fountain of an Alaskan fish
invites a hummingbird to
take its morning bath


The withered branch

 in the wind
Self severed

from the 
Tree of the Covenant

fallen broken on barren sand

tries to root itself

with no water of life

or soil if love

left in its place

the cold desolate sand

withered and broken

it serves as a reminder

of obedience to

the mighty tree of life

called God’s Covenant

the Divine hospital

we live in a age

of pain and anguish

spiritual cancers infest the world

monetary leeches suck all energy

the people seek gods of their own creation

who do their bidding

each lost in their own darkness

seeking the remedy for their ills

pain and isolation


Divine laws

who heal the sick

make the blind to see

the remedies of obedience

a promised faith

has returned

healing medicine

for a ravaged age

looking around this faith

for perfection and i see the


who like me

seek the

Divine Physician


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