Dervish

Dervish

We sit quietly beneath the Earth, hushed in a hollowed cavern

facing an empty central circle and shiver in the dark, dimly-lit,

anticipating the mystic rite to come

Four figures enter, heads bowed, black-cloaked, hats like tombstones

dervish-devout, focused upon the drum, the pipe, the strings

improvising, building slowly to steady, hypnotic rhythm

calming the air around them

Then the semazen themselves arrive, arms criss-crossed at first, testifying the unity of God

intoning Qu’ranic eulogy to the Prophet, their delicate first movements

salaaming with care and exactitude, performing their sufic rite

describing the spiritual journey towards a new perfection,

man’s submission of ego, annihilation of self to God, and ascension towards an ecstasy

the very rapture of being

Soon the black cloaks cast aside revealing the ego-shrouds, white skirts of Mevlana

and, slowly, the turning itself begins, revolving right to left around the heart

turning ever-faster into whirling like the blood around the body

protons in the atom, their own steady orbit around the space

arms now spread widely open, one hand pointed up towards the sky

the other back down towards the Earth

connecting God with Man

Eyes closed in concentration, heads inclined upon their shoulders

in the spirit, in the moment, submerged in love

the spinning circulation frenzied for a while, then finished

before returning silently to their cells for further contemplation

and quiet meditation

 Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2014