On the road

 

Yosy Flug

My friend, the traveler
Remember
We are here,
Hidden under various disguises,
Posted
As guards, guides and companions
Along your life’s journey,
Waiting
To give you assistance
To extend a helping hand
To provide succor.

We are
But a reflection of your virtues
Manifesting in time
Of necessity.
Savings
Placed by your forgotten
Selfless deeds
In the inexhaustible
Divine
Treasure-house.
Yours for the taking
When the need arises.

We are
The friend
Of friends
Whose face is always hidden
Yet ever revealed
In the silent smile
Of your heart,
In the caress of the wind,
In the soothing coolness of spring water.

And the secret is
That
Forgetting yourself
You too
Are one
Of
Us.

_()_
yosy

You

You merged from behind
a raspberry bush.
On a fragrant summer evening.
You were a dot of light
and I chose to see you golden.
You have been my travel-mate
since I’ve opened my eyes to life.
You’ve traveled with me through
mysteries I could never understand
and it was not your job to explain
anything; ever.
Sometimes you travel from
flower to flower and sometimes
I lose sight of you.
You become a colorful kite
vanishing into the endless sky,
a shooting star landing
where I cannot reach you.
You too sleep, maybe at the
peak of the Himalayas, maybe
on the wings of a tiny bird or
maybe on the wavelets of a calm
mysterious beautiful river.
What you whisper in my ear
cannot become a book
what you breathe into my being
cannot become a religion.
If anyone has seen you
and I’m sure they have,
if anyone has heard you,
and I’m sure they have,
then they’d also know
that the notion of you is
so ethereal, so changeable,
so paradox and so unknown
that they cannot trap you
in man-made notions.
No, you cannot be defined
and no, your whispers
have a different tune for
different souls.
Believe me,
I am trying to accept
that I’ll never know you,
never understand you.
Sometimes you become
a pouring of Jasmine petals
as a blessing for a lone traveler
who pauses to sigh.
Maybe that is a blessing
and maybe it is a blessing
that I have made peace
with not knowing you and
sometimes, achingly, loving you.

Hydeh Aubon (5/8/08)