New Moon, Hilal

You've heard about the qualities of Bilal.
Now hear about the thinness of Hilal,
which is more advanced than Bilal.

He denied his nafs more than some of you 
who move backward, from being an illumined globe 
toward becoming again an opaque stone.

Remember the story of the young guest 
who came before a certain king. "And how old are you,
my lad? Tell the truth now. Say it out."

"Eighteen, well seventeen.    Sixteen.
Actually, uh, fifteen."

"Keep going! You'll end up
in your mother's womb."

Or the man who went to borrow a horse.
"Take the gray."
                        "No, not that one."
"Why?"
           "It goes in reverse. It backs up."

"Then turn its tail toward your home."

The beast you ride is your various appetites.
Change your wanting. When you prune 
weak branches, the remaining fruit 
get tastier. Lust can be redirected,
so that even when it takes you backward,
it goes toward shelter.

A strong intention can make "two oceans wide"
be the size of a blanket, or "seven hundred years"
the time it takes to walk to someone you love.

True seekers keep riding straight through,
whereas big, lazy, self-worshiping geese
unload their pack animals in a farmyard 
and say, "This is far enough."

Do you know the story of the travelers 
who came to a village in early Spring?
There's an abandoned house with an open door.

"Why don't we wait for this cold spell to pass, 
this old woman's chill, they call it.
Let's put our baggage in here and rest."

A deep voice from inside, “No. Unload outside, 
then enter. This is a meeting hall
of great dignity!"

There are such secret sanctuaries.

Although he worked in a stable as a groom, 
Hilal was an enlightened master.

His employer did not understand Hilal's state. 
He knew up and down and north-south-east-west, 
the evidence of the senses, but nothing else.

The color of the ground is in front of us, 
but prophetic light is hidden.

One person sees a minaret, but not the bird 
perched there. A second person sees the bird, 
but not the hair it carries. A third
sees minaret, bird, and hair.

Until you can see the thread of the hair, 
the knot of awareness will not be loosened.

The body is the minaret. Obedience, 
the bird. Or three hundred birds, or two, 
however you want it. The second person
sees the bird, and only the bird.

The hair is the secret
that belongs to the bird.

No nest built with such material 
will go unused. A song-thread flows 
continuously out of the bird.

Try to see this bird on its clay tower, 
and also the hair floating in its beak.

Hilal becomes ill. Nine days he lies sick 
in the stable. No one notices,
except the prophet Muhammad, peace 
and blessing be upon him.
He comes to visit.

Hilal's employer is ecstatic.
With elaborate ceremony he emerges 
from his upstairs room and kisses the ground 
in front of the Prophet. “In God's name, 
please honor this house."

"I'm not here to visit you."

"Who then?"

"There is a new-moon new-man planted near here, 
spending the lightness of his humility
like blossoms on the ground.
Where is Hilal?”

"I haven't seen him for days.
He must be out with the mules and the horses."

Muhammad runs to the stable. It's dark, 
and the stench of manure is strong, 
but all that vanishes when friendship enters.

Miracles don't cause faith, but rather 
the scent of kindredness that unites people.

Miracles overwhelm unbelief.
Faith grows from friendship.

With the familiar fragrance, Hilal wakes up. 
How could such a thing be in a stable?

Through the legs of the horses he sees
the robes of Muhammad! He comes crawling out 
from the dark corner and lays his cheek

on Muhammad's feet. Muhammad puts his cheek 
on Hilal's and kisses his head and face.

"How hidden can one be!
Are you better? How are you?”
                                              HOW!

A man sits and eats damp clay for moisture. 
How is it with him when a flood of fresh 
prophetic rainwater suddenly rides him along?

How is it when a blind, filthy dog wakes up, 
and finds that he's a lion, and not 
a lion such as could be killed, 
but a spirit-lion who shatters sword 
and javelin with just his presence?

How would that feel? A man crawls for years 
on his stomach with his eyes closed. 
Then one moment he opens his eyes, 
and he's in a garden. It's Spring.

How is it to be free of HOW,
loose in howlessness?

Howlers sit waiting around your table.
Throw them a bone!

This suggestion: wash before going to the watertank.
The waters there have grace enough to clean
and give you peace, but wash yourself
of hows before you go.

Wash off all wonderings-why 
and workings-out-however. 
Don't take those with you 
to the big watertank.

Husam! Bats don't bother Husamuddin. 
He's an expert on sunlight!

He's written about the new moon, Hilal. 
Now he'll write about the full moon, the sheikh. 
New moon and full moon are the same.

A new moon teaches gradualness
and deliberation and how one gives birth 
to oneself slowly. Patience with small details 
makes perfect a large work, like the universe.

What nine months of attention does for an embryo 
forty early mornings will do
for your gradually growing wholeness.