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Homesickness

by Fethullah Gülen on . Posted in Broken Plectrum

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For man this world is like a foreign land, a fearful ocean,
where he flounders a whole lifetime among waves of anxiety.
At every step and every station, he expects a dawn of hope to break:
Morning begins with pains, evening comes with the hopes of union.

Over and again, winds of mortality blow and are biting cold:
Lamentations as if from rejected orphans are heard everywhere.
By and by, arising from deep within his own conscience
come heavenly sounds laden with mystery and meaning.

A time comes when, like overflowing waves, he overflows
with longing to touch eternity and sails as far as the shore.
But he is stopped there, unable to move as if held in chains.
He brims over with zeal but remains in his narrow pool.

Confined within the walls of matter, man feels imprisoned
though knowing the horizons of being are of infinite breadth.
He always lives autumn in the corners of his heart
and travels through the dark pits of despair lamenting.

Those with hearts set on eternity live a honeymoon every night,
rapturous and joyful with the pleasure of endless spectacles.
Observing existence with the profound intuition of their hearts,
they welcome there the music from the higher worlds beyond.

Dressed in shirts of flame, with roses between their lips,
Even in the cruelest storms of the most painful days,
their spirits receive fresh life from the ardor of their hearts
and the profound contentment their conviction brings.

Every day man is washed in that ocean of purification,
and feels Him as deeply as angels, and at times
when he is utterly alone, he feels His care and nearness,
and tastes the delight of love and intimacy with Him.