TRANSLATED FROM A FOREIGN TONGUE A Collection of Photography, Art and Poetry | Dr. Gregory T. Lawton
Translated from a Foreign Tongue, Copyright 2013, Revised 2017 Dr. Gregory T. Lawton All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission from Gregory T. Lawton. Muyblue Productions 2040 Raybrook St., SE Suite 104 Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546 616-285-9999
Writing, Photography and Design – Dr. Gregory T. Lawton
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Dedication
In my book, “Scent of a Forgotten Flower” I stated that power is the ability to change a human heart. That ability is only possessed by the Great Teachers that pass this way every few thousand years and who are the true Educators of humankind. I owe the changes in my life to one such Teacher and to the Bahá'í Faith. If my life and work have any substance or value, it is due to the Bahá'i Faith. Like a flower I receive the gift of life from the light and warmth of the writings of Bahá’u’lláh. The second force for change and growth in my life is due to my wife Ginny. The positive dynamic between a man and a woman, as husband and wife, is like the orbiting of the planets or the gravity between the earth and the moon, and can serve to keep us on a constant and steady path. The third important force for change in my life is the result of my daughters Megan and Jaime. The gift of children in a life serves to show you your possibilities for goodness and innocence. And finally, the last positive force for change in my life has been my teachers and mentors. I am blessed to have had several remarkable people in my life who selflessly shared their abilities and wisdom with me. These teachers include Professor Huo Chi-Kwang, Dr. James Schleichert, Joan Laird, and Mr. Dhikru’llah Khadem.
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“Thou beholdest, O my God, how every bone in my body soundeth like a pipe with the music of Thine inspiration, revealing the signs of Thy oneness and the clear tokens of Thy unity.” Baha'u'llah “In your light, I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems.” Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī.
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TRANSLATED FROM A FOREIGN TONGUE God lives in a House called silence just up the road from here. Listen carefully. You will hear “the murmur of syllables, and sounds�, set free in a muted melody of words heard only by those who listen but do not speak. These songs, I believe, are translated from a foreign tongue. Take off the cloak of words and stand naked in their meaning and enter a House called silence just up the road from here. Quote from the writings of Baha'u'llah
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ARISE Vernal spring of emerald green has bloomed again, golden glints of sun brush the clouds with ruby hues against cerulean ripples of sky Pick up the trumpet, two blasts will suffice this day. The fabled thief came in the night, arise. Come off our coach, arise. Step out your house, arise. Leave your piles of gold by the door, arise. The stars have fallen, the moon gives no light, the heavens are cleft in twain, and outside your door is a new Heaven and a new earth, arise. You admire my words until you disagree with them. Why do you think the prophets speak in parables and metaphors they love you too much to disagree with you, they would rather climb upon the cross than argue with you. Not every dog will bark, not every cow gives milk, and not every tree bears fruit. Page | 7
Thus the Trainer, the Farmer, and the Gardener must test them as the Miner clarifies gold from dross. The lowliest ant busied in the dirt knows this truth, how is it then that you do not? At the dawn of this day the butterfly crawled from its cocoon but your heart remains asleep. Arise!
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IF WORDS ARE NOT SONGS I see that all things have words, but speak in different languages. I heard the soft voice of the folds of silk rippling in the wind. The voice spoke to my soul saying, “If words are not songs they are not worth speaking.”
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I DREAMED YOU A RIVER I dreamed you a river flowing through my heart. Within your bends and turns I felt the depth of you. I heard a joyous sound sung in a language called love. Within your currents and eddies I was pulled to you. I see the diamond sunlight dancing on your skin. Within your sparkling lights I am one with you. You are a river called love and may you flow, and may I be pulled, and may we dance and be as one, within this heart forever. I dreamed you a river flowing through my heart.
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THIS BITTER WINTER DESERT This bitter winter desert leaves me cold, but the warmth of your love melts my heart within me. Others would call you Love, and I know you as my very pulse and the life blood moving through my veins, you rather are the very heart of me. Because of the cold you are more beautiful to me; because of the cold I know the warmth of your love when it touches me. What icy grip then can this bleak winter have upon me? Where there is your love, no coldness do I feel.
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THE SECRETS OF SNOW The wind speaks the secrets of snow, as it falls upon me like a blanket of cotton. Everything is covered in white, yet there is a garden below. I remember when I too was as pure as snow, the wind speaks the secrets of snow.
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THE RIVER FINDS ITS WAY The river finds its way, not upon a path of least resistance but upon a path ordained, the river finds its way. The river is a living thing, and where the river flows it bestows its goodly gifts, the river finds its way. Where the river flows it does its work with a soulful harmony, the river finds its way, and at the ocean’s shore it finds its end the river found its way.
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A CHRYSALIS OF ICE In spring I remember you, a blue flower nodding in the breeze, a butterfly - fluttered by. Now I see you entombed within a chrysalis of ice. Carried by a winter wind, the frost landing upon you, and sticking there. I see your seeds within their shroud of ice and realize that seeds must die before becoming blue flowers nodding in the breeze and waving at the butterfly that flutters by.
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SOFT CARESS First I felt you as a soft caress of moonlight on the snow at night, then I stood in awestruck witness to your glorious rebirth at dawn, and now you sting my eyes with your shining brilliance in the mid-day sky.
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A VEIL OF ASH I would brush the dust from my hair, how it clings to me… But this covering of dust reminds me of someone I once loved. I would wash these ashes from my eyes, how they blind me… But this veil of ash brings the tears that clear my vision. When this song bird has fallen upon the dust and turns to ashes, what will have become of its bright colors, it’s beautiful form, its melody of delight? Will this song echo forever within the ruby chambers of my heart or will its receding echo die away leaving not a trace?
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A PASSING OF DAYS As you count the passing of days, do not grieve for the loss of time. The timeless may not be lost. Rather embrace time as a beloved friend guiding you on your pilgrimage to the beauty of your sacred soul.
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THE DREAMS OF A FIELD FENCE The fence awaits the inevitability of snow, its knowledge gained from witness to countless winters past. The storm lays its veil across the field and casts its blanket upon the fence. The fence engulfed in waves of snow, stands resolute in contrasted silhouette, and dreams of warm days to come when Morning Glory and Ivy will clothe its canted posts and rusted wire strands with the ornaments of its spring attire. The fence longs to dance its posts across the fields and stretch out into unknown lands, but the greatest yearning of the fence, is to find that gate that opens its heart to the beauty held within. Thus are the dreams of a field fence‌
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THREADING LIGHTS OF ABOUNDING GRACE O’ shining star of bright and wondrous light come join with me and let us dance to the music of the spheres and entwine as “threading lights of abounding grace”. It was your luminous countenance whose golden lasso first snared my heart. It was your radiance that first brought joy to my soul. Asleep, the rays of this sun stirred my heart to wakefulness. At play within these brilliant beams I found my love for thee. This light has melted the shadows within and filled every space with shining stars of luminous grace. O’ Thou most Glorious Light are you not the Source of all illumination and enkindlement, and are we not but the hand mirrors of Thy reflection? What grace is this that our two souls are conjoined as one luminous orb of light, and have become a beacon of love - until the end of time. This light is not of this world, and this light is eternal, as is this love, forever. Page | 29
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FALLING IS YOUR DESTINY O leaf, I see you in your death like sleep. Do not remain upon the tree, for falling is your destiny. O leaf, the wind will carry you to your rest, for falling leaves are truly blessed. O leaf, I see your tears frozen there upon the tree. If you fear your death, you will not be free. Do not remain upon the tree, for falling is your destiny. O leaf, the wind will lift you to your rest, for falling leaves are truly blessed.
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WHERE NO TRACKS LEAD Countless are those who travel the familiar well worn path, and few are those who walk where no tracks lead. The well worn path marks the way of someone else’s journey, follow this path and arrive at the same destination, or make your own tracks and visit a place unknown.
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LIFE BLOOD The heart is a water wheel and our life blood flows between us, Our hearts and love have become true friends, thus, do we share our communion. This Beauty is eternal and her lips drink deep of the water of life. Take of me my blood and the fire inside of me will remain.
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IN SUCH SILENCE IS MY SOUL AWAKE Is this all naught but a dance, along a path of light – does the ocean resist the moon? Our dress is fragile and flowing silk, not coarse ropes that bind and tie. Step by step, do these lovers dance on – ever yielding to this siren’s song. I seek deep peace and deep abiding love and I will dance for my fare, if you will but hold me in an eternal embrace. We dance, we twirl, we spin through the sky, pulled and tugged by a planetary tide forever locked in orbital grace. I will follow your dancing feet anywhere, even to the end of all, will I dance with you. So then, shall we dance across the sunrise and span the heavens from end to end, until we find our rest within the setting sun.
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I AM EARTH I am earth. I am alive. I am your mother. I sustain your life. I endure your footsteps upon me but now, I have grown weary of you.
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BLOW THEN GENTLY YE WINDS AND ROLL THEN IN PEACE YE WAVES… O’ storm of darksome night rage not upon the earth, stay your fearsome gales and winds of terror. Shake not the pillars of the earth nor quake the lands. “Thou seest how black darkness” has enveloped man. Dispel this storm - the winds of war, the fires of hatred, and the floods of affliction. Dissension, war, and carnage have been man’s predilection. “O’ Lord, the ocean of rebellion is surging, and these tempests will not be stilled…”, but by Thy grace and mercy. Bestow Thy grace upon the earth and visit Thy mercy upon the land, for the earth itself is weary of man. O’ that man might become a gentle wind, and a peaceful wave upon the sea. Is this not the true way to be? This wind is God’s breath upon man’s face, and these waves course within his heart. Blow then gently ye winds and roll then in peace ye waves, for this storm is God’s presence and these waves His grace. Blow then gently ye winds and roll then in peace ye waves… Quote from the writings of Baha'u'llah
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SILENT SELF THEREIN The door is open so come on in, come and find your silent self abiding there within. Silence is not a lack of anything, not voice, or music, nor the wind, it is silence that lets your life begin. So come through the door and enter here, and leave behind the din, it is here that a true heart can join, your silent self - therein.
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MOST BEAUTIFUL These flakes of pure white snow caress the rose, and melting upon her petals, they enter her saying, “Most beautiful, most beautiful.
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THE LOSS OF WATER Elements of fire burn in this furious marriage of air and beget the clouds in the sea of sky. …and then manifests the rain – a solace to the soul of the earth, and the earth’s first baptism. The earth is not the land, the earth is all… Pooled lakes of compassionate grace, healing desert solitude, high mountains of prayer, and the vast overarching sea of sky. Set sail upon this sea of sky and roll amongst the clouds. I fear not the loss of water, its reign is eternal and its sacred wetness is a sacrament. I open my mouth to accept this communion and cup my hands to receive this baptism. I am anointed by the eyes of falling rain. Page | 47
I fear not the loss of water – so, I die but for a drop. I would kill but for a taste upon my tongue. If I fell to dust it is you that would be my resurrection. If you fell upon my body like a spring the water within me would well up and flow to you. Enter then every pore of me and fill me with your life. The earth does not deny its gifts. In withholding there is a wisdom and in bestowing yet another wisdom the seed first sleeps within the dust and so, awaits the rain. “and the clouds of My bounty rain down upon thee their gifts.” I fear not the loss of water, for the lovers burn and yet beget the rain.
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DANCING WITH TREES IN THE SNOW You bow to me, your graceful limbs dressed in white. Formally, I accept your hand and we dance away, under a rain of snow that falls like rice on our wedding day. Within this holy pure white spot, your grace falls upon me, and anoints me like a rain of snow on our wedding day.
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BONES OF THE EARTH I hear the roar of the sun at its zenith, a lion whose claws tear the belly of the sky wide open. I see the fury of the waves of the ocean, a snake whose fangs cut into the earth and rip the shore away. I feel the terrible strength of the wind, a bird whose wings batter and beat the land into shreds. This creature Earth itself is quaking and shaking its very bones and bucking off the bit, the bridle and the yoke of man. Heavy upon the earth tread our clumsy feet, and so, shrinks the earth from each footfall as a wife from a drunken husband staggering into his home at night.
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GOD HATH INDEED MADE ME BLESSED My Lord, the Prophet said, “My cup runneth over”, but if I become less of a vessel how will I contain Thy goodly gifts? Rather make of my heart a bucket, no a barrel, and yet an ocean of Thy bestowals. …and again the Prophet said, “God hath indeed made Me blessed, wheresoever I may be…” Quote from the writings of The Báb
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WHIRLING STORM OF DUST O’ whirling storm of dust, soon like the candle you will flicker away. Of you there will be no trace.
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FEVER Someone take my temperature, my skin is hot and my heart is burning, I fear I have the fever of a mystic.
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THE GLIMPSE Like flowers of frost, I glimpse your beauty, but for a moment.
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THE PEARL Beloved, there are no memories in a shell, the shell is just a castaway, the treasure is the pearl. Polish the pearl and lose its luster that is the mystery of a pearl, its light is from within. “Ye are My treasury, for in you I have treasured the pearls of My mysteries…” Dive into the depths of me, and you will discover that I would sacrifice my shell that you might have my pearl.
Quote from the writings of Baha'u'llah
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FROM DREAMS AT NIGHT With my own two hands I made this hell brick by brick, and stone by stone. I mixed the mortar with blood and bone – I built the walls of this mortal cell. In my dreams at night I have taken flight but I awaken in chains at dawns first light. …and hour by hour, and day by day I find my soul caged in rooms of clay and imprisoned in this mortal cell with my own two hands I made this hell. But if I raised these prison walls don’t I control what stands or falls? And if I built this cage of clay can’t I decide to leave or stay? With my own two hands I crushed the walls brick by brick, and stone by stone. From this cage I have finally flown, and the way home my soul recalls.
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From dreams at night have I taken flight and I wing my way towards God’s bright light.
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SPRING’S SURPRISE Roll back the blanket of winter and call to wakefulness the earth. Shake off the slumber of the night and wear the colored robes of light. Spring stands knocking at the door and every seed must heed the call. From the earth the flowers rise their fragrant beauty is springs surprise.
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SHADOW OF THE SUN In this earthly life, every bright and beautiful light casts a shadow even Jesus had Judas. But as I face the sun I have no thoughts of shadows. I have grown weary of my darkness and offended it leaves me to myself. I have seen a light within which there is no shadow, and it is not a light from this world. This is the light that I drink in deeply and in its radiance no shadows exist. Who is there then that has seen the shadow of the sun?
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IN MY FATHER’S HOUSE Many faiths, but one Voice speaks, many roads, lead to one destination, many souls, but one human family, many books, but one source of truth, many Prophets, but one Holy Spirit. One Father, one family, one sun, one moon, one sea, one land – we are rose petals torn from your Holy Book. Hindu, Jew, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Baha’i God is not in competition with Himself, and fire is not diminished when it shares itself… Gita, Torah, Bible, Koran - one Sun, many sunrises. “In my Father’s house there are many mansions I go to prepare a place for you.” One earth, one life, one chance such is the mystery of God. Quote from the Christian Bible
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MORTAL SPRING IS BORN AGAIN I laid myself upon the earth and felt Her tremble beneath me. Once again is She pregnant with the seeds of life, and “mortal spring” will bloom again. I laid myself upon the earth and listened to her moan as spring is issued forth. God’s warm breath of life delivers an immaculate conception. As we lay together in deep embrace I felt the moss of Her velvet skin and I smelled from Her the perfume of an earthy musk. O’ Earth, do you smell the clay in me? There is nothing in me that is not a gift from Thee. My God! Your sacred soil is the soul of the earth. I laid myself upon the earth and heard Her sing this song, “Rejoice, rejoice, mortal spring is born again.”
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REFLECTIONS IN A LIVING MIRROR There was no heat in our house, and all the mirrors were broken, as were the windows and the doors. We were as dull as rocks, numbed, insensible and filled with a burning desire, whose bouquet was the odor of Flowers of Sulfur. Then, as now, this rock longed to become a mirror but feared the rubbing and the polishing wheel. We are not destine to be mirrors of one plane or dimension, we are not insensible sheets of glass, one step above a polished rock. We are mirrors of a living light, a bright and luminous light, within whose pearlescent sphere is treasured both the sperm and the egg. These are the reflections of a living mirror, and these are the mirrors we are.
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I WILL MEET YOU THERE There is a meadow that speaks to me in words that move within my heart. There is a meadow that calls to me and from my slumber bids me part. I will meet you there, where breezes are gentle, where the sun is warm and God speaks in whispered sounds at the light of dawn. Where seeds open their mouths to the grace of a gentle rain, and flowers bow their heads in prayer. Here not a blade of grass has been bent by the foot of man, nor has a woman yet stepped upon this land. There is a meadow that sings to me in songs and music in my heart. There is a meadow that cries to me and tears my soul apart. Hear then, in quiet and reverent grace, the meadow speak and say, “I will meet you here.� Page | 75
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I WOULD SEARCH FOR THEE If I was flea I would jump on Thee, if I was an ant I would crawl up Thee, if I was a fly I would land on Thee, if I was bee I would buzz around Thee. …your honeyed sweetness would intoxicate me. If I was a flea, if I was an ant, if I was a fly, if I was a bee - my tiny heart would beat for Thee. If I was nothing, I would search for Thee.
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SO GREAT WAS THE WEEPING …and the rain fell from the sky without end. …and the light of the sun was eclipsed. …and the moon covered its face in shame. …and the stars fell into the dust in despair. … and all of creation cried with a depth of sorrow, unmeasurable, incalculable. So great was the weeping of the saints and the angels that the Maiden of Consolation was herself, inconsolable. “Know thou that when the Son of Man yielded up His breath to God, the whole creation wept with a great weeping.” He suffered, He suffered from their unclean hands as they nailed Him to the cross and callously draped Him across the sky. When His heart stopped Love wailed in deepest agony. On His final breath the earth shuttered with grief and took up a mantle of dust. Deeply did all things weep, deeply did all things weep and are they weeping still… Page | 79
Your bones are a walking cross upon which your skin is nailed. Your hair is a flowing crown affixed with the adorning of thorns. Your wounds drip tears of pomegranate seeds, as the dust welcomes them like clustered rubies. These Holy Spirits of Christ Jesus, we hang them all on Calvary. We nail them to a cross. We wound them deeply and bleed them dry before the burned-out eyes of a blinded sun. Thus do the foolish seek to put out the light of God with their mouths and their hands. Jesus the Christ put on the eternal luminous robes of light and joined the Ancient of Days upon the Throne of Glory. …and He is with us still. …and He is with us always. …as is He ever the Son of God.
Quote from the writings of Baha'u'llah
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WORDS Hear me, I am shouting as loud as I can, and I have no desire to be subtle - the time for polite conversation has passed. I first caught the accent of His voice from across the room. Its melody was hypnotic like the chanting of 10,000 prayers in unison. His words were reflections of the light within my heart. His “honeyed tongue” released a stream of “mystic holiness”. His language was the love I had searched for in vain. First I followed the hollow echo of my own voice – we both know where that led me. Now I believe that I will listen to the melody that you sing. Now is the time for the Beloved’s song, so hush and listen. Now my heart encompasses the moon. Now my eyes contain the seas. Now my mouth is a river and you have made my voice a fountain that gushes ribbons of crystal rain. Your words plant roses in the hearts of men, these words leave gardens in their wake. “Hear Me, ye mortal birds! In the Rose Garden of changeless splendor a Flower hath begun to bloom…” Finally, I am carried aloft on the vapor of your words. Quote from the writings of Baha'u'llah
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ENDLESS SPRING The Most Great Poet, Source of all, Author of the rhythm and rhyme, of all mankind - fashioned this gentle butterfly and gave it this love song. Consider the tender butterfly. It harms no one as it flits from flower to flower begging for its nectar, with beating wings that fan the fragrances of God. “Now fragrance from the sweet meadows of the soul wafts by…” I wish to be a butterfly; that my name might be all goodness. that my desire might be all kindness, that my passion might be all love, and that my will might be to serve the flowers of mankind as a messenger of resurrection and renewal. “This is the spring of endless spirit – not a spring soon chased away…” …and then I dreamed I was lying naked on the earth. 10,000 delicate butterflies landed on my body and lightly kissed my skin. Singing all in unison, they greeted me in peace and bid me then to join them – with the spirit of a butterfly they carried me aloft. Quote from the writings of Baha'u'llah
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FROM FIRE TO FLOWERS No good thing comes from this fire, hatred stokes the funeral pyre. Quench this flame and its hurtful burning with friendship, love, and peaceful yearning. Plant in all hearts a beautiful flower, and hope that climbs the highest bower. Change the burning flames of hate into a passageway – leading to a garden gate.
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LACEY LOVER OF THE LIGHT Shining butterfly that I see dance around and sing to me. Now you kiss me on my cheek. and I am too stunned to speak. O’ lacey lover of the light open wing and take to flight. Whatever flower you may grace there blooms a garden in its place.
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LONG SHADOWS OF THE MOON From my window a lovely sight, the long shadows of the moon take flight. The moon shines brightest in the night and fades away in the morning light. I would worship the moon, but then I see the moon is just a mirror, like me.
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UNFINISHED HEART My heart has taken for herself a lover, whose name is Truth. Entwined in sweet embrace they speak in whispered breath in a language of poetry, and confide together in songs most entrancing and melodious. “O My friend, listen with heart and soul to the songs of the spirit, and treasure them as thine own eyes.” A Nightingale has taken nest in the rose bower of my heart and this poor soul cannot resist these enticing songs of Truth. When Truth and heart conjoin I am left emptied and spent, but also left far more than I have ever been. This heart has become an open shell whose lustrous pearls are now unveiled, and whose inmost treasures lay unconcealed, This heart is an organ whose pipes breathe songs and secrets “and in Arabian melodies and sweet Iranian songs recount the mysteries of God…” When both illusion and delusion are evicted from this house only the dwellers of heart and truth remain. Page | 91
Thus must all lesser loves be cast aside that the most luminous love may cast its light‌ This true love strips me of all pretenses, but there is no shame when standing naked in the light of truth. Truth and heart, heart and truth, it is heart that must chose her lover or remain forever, unfinished, like an unpolished pearl. Quote from the writings of Baha'u'llah
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SUNRISE WITHIN THE HEART Within the heart there is a chamber, where there is always a sunrise.
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EVERY VOICE IS STILLED Some days the words pour forth as torrents, some days nothing flows. Eventually every voice is stilled.
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“Every word of thy poetry is indeed like unto a mirror in which the evidences of the devotion and love thou cherishest for God and His chosen ones are reflected.� Baha'u'llah
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“God picks up the reed-flute and blows. Each note is a need coming through one of us, a passion, a longing pain. Remember the lips where the wind-breath originated, and let your note be clear. Don't try to end it. Be your note.” Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī.
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About the author Dr. Gregory T. Lawton is an author of many books, most of them in the area of health science, but also in the genre of Asian martial arts, philosophy, poetry, and prose. Dr. Lawton is a passionate award winning artist and photographer who finds his artistic and creative inspiration in nature, and who frequently attributes the source of his images and writing to the 19th century Persian Prophet, Bahá’u’lláh, the founder of the Baha’i Faith, and the 13th century Persian poet and Sufi Mystic Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī. Dr. Lawton has been a member of the Baha’i Faith since 1970 and embraces the Faith’s principles related to the promotion of world unity and peace. Dr. Gregory T. Lawton has studied trained in Asian religion, philosophy and martial arts such as Aikido, Jujitsu, Kenpo, and Tai Chi Chuan. Dr. Lawton’s main and most noted Asian martial art instructor was Professor Huo Chi-Kwang. Professor Huo was a renowned Chinese scholar, artist, and calligrapher who served as Taiwan's ambassador to France and he was a friend of Pablo Picasso.
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Translated from a Foreign Tongue, a collection of art, photography and poetry
Translated from a Foreign Tongue, Copyright 2013, 2017 Dr. Gregory T. Lawton Muyblue Productions 2040 Raybrook St., SE Suite 104 Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546 616-285-9999 Writing, Photography and Design – Dr. Gregory T. Lawton All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission from Gregory T. Lawton.
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