I wander the Wilderness outside the walled villages of religion,
Not because I hold them in disdain, denying their fruitfulness,
For my Heart embraces within each, that which enriches,
And sets aside that which does not.
Nor do I deny the efficacy possible in each village,
For within the constraints of their dogmas and orthodoxies,
There have been, and will always be, those few souls,
Who transcend the letter of the law, Fulfilling its Spirit.
I often encounter fierce villagers standing guard at the gates,
Declaring I, a heretic, may not enter, much less embrace,
For neither do I adhere to, nor abide by their laws,
For theirs is, they say, the way and the truth.
Time and again I have pushed past those militant legalists,
And turning from the road leading to the edifice of law,
Have found my way to The Tavern of The Beloved,
Where, Intoxicated, I have revelled in Love.
Ibn Arabi so Beautifully distilled my many words:
“I profess the religion of Love.
Wherever its caravan turns along the way,
That is the belief, the faith I keep.”
