Polishing the Mirror

When Abu Bakr met Muhaminad, he said,
“This is not a face that lies.”

Abu Bakr was one whose bowl
has fallen from the roof.

There’s no hiding the fragrance that comes
from an ecstatic. A polished mirror
cannot help reflecting.

Muhammad once was talking to a crowd
of chieftains, princes with great influence,
when a poor blind man interrupted him.

Muhammad frowned and said to the man,
“Let me attend to these visitors.
This is a rare chance,
whereas you are already my friend.
We’ll have ample time.”

Then someone nearby said, “That blind man
may be worth a hundred kings. Remember
the proverb, Human beings are mines.”

World-power means nothing. Only the unsayable,
jeweled inner life matters.

Muhammad replied, “Do not think that I’m concerned
with being acknowledged by these authorities.

If a beetle moves toward rosewater, it proves
that the solution is diluted. Beetles
love dung, not rose essence.

If a coin is eager to be tested
by the touchstone, that coin
itself may be a touchstone.

A thief loves the night.
I am day. I reveal essences.

A calf thinks God is a cow.
A donkey’s theology changes
when someone new pets it
and gives what it wants.

I am not a cow, or thistles for camels
to browse on. People who insult me
are only polishing the mirror.”