““If
the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain.”
Old Turkish Proverb.
I went to the
Mountain and climbed its wooded slopes.
I recognised its
power, its divine and magic presence, its mighty, compassionate blessings.
I walked clockwise
around its base with great love and devotion.
When I had to
leave, I carried its image in my mind and heart – and every day I sang its
praise.
I begged it to
shine its wondrous grace upon me, to embrace me, to swallow me up and dissolve
me in its infinite perfection, to set me free.
In total and
humble surrender, I offered the mite of myself at its feet.
Now the Mountain
has come to Muhammad: lo! it shines in peace and splendour in my Heart!
Wherever I go, now
there is only the blissful Mountain – no more me!
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