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
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