Tag Archives: truth

Hafiz – Poem 23

All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 23:

Strive to be truthful

& the sun will be born

From your breath

Some thoughts:

I love that Hafiz is not demanding perfection, but the striving for truthfulness. It is the progress toward integrity and spiritual alignment that is the thing. The working toward that truthfulness can be hard. It takes effort to be sincere, to say the hard things when the soft things might be easier, to remain steadfast when on the hotseat. Pushing through those moments becomes the clarifying piece of the puzzle that builds the habit of honesty.

Only when we are turning the soil of our souls can the dawn rise from within us. Truth creates a reality where beautiful life can be lived each day with a clean conscience. It is through our breath that we speak forth words, which is the main way we communicate. Life is in the breath. Is it so radical to speak truth, rather than propaganda, lies, distortions, accusations, and misinformation? Apparently so. Hafiz says striving to speak truthfully ends the dark night and renews the morning with promise and hope. It is enough to bring life.

My Poem 23:

Day breaks,

revealing a rising sun

which was there all along,

merely waiting for us to wake up.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Silver Fox

The 1st image I ever saw of David on OkCupid.

One of the things I noticed first about my future husband was his unaffected demeanor and his willingness to be openly fascinated by a new thought. There was no pretense, no attempt to impress, and certainly no vanity. I am still pleased by these qualities he embodies. He is who he is and that is that.

The people I want to surround myself with must share these characteristics or at least strive to work toward some semblance of authenticity. A friend of mine is writing a beautiful short story about a fictionalized Nefertiti whose companion silver fox’s tail bristles at the slightest hint of insincerity. When I read her rough draft, I was struck by the realization that something within me resonates with that fox—a bristling, like sand in my shoe, an unfamiliar noise in the dark, a mis-buttoned shirt, or one little dead gnat in my soup. Sure, I can fish the gnat out and consider eating the soup because I love the soup and don’t want to waste the soup, and the dead gnat is not that big of a deal. However, it is a hurdle my brain must get past to push through and move on and act as though nothing of consequence has happened. I know. I can’t unknow.

We are all flawed and have moments that we regret in our interactions with others or our representation of ourselves to the world, but my biggest regrets all stem from times in my life that I was not being authentic with myself. The lowest lows where I had bona fide breakdowns with lifechanging consequences were when I was lying to myself about who I was, what I believed, or what I was willing to tolerate. Living a fractured life, accepting unbearable circumstances for the sake of a belief system or other people’s judgment will result in disaster.

It is scary to say out loud that our personal ideologies no longer line up with our current realities. It is terrifying to admit to people who we love that we must set boundaries with them for our own sanity, but we owe it to ourselves to speak the truth in love and accept that there will be consequences for speaking that truth. And I have come to know in my half a century of living that, though some of the fallout is painful and chaotic, when the dust settles, I am better for it.

When living in authenticity, I can find a gentle, kind, sincere soul to partner with on a dating website full of toads. I can leave my career that I invested over 30 years of education and work into. I can leap into a new, scary field and become the writer I’ve always said I wanted to be. I can develop a spiritual life that nourishes me and others around me. And I can be ok in the midst of the turmoil that is spiraling around us all due to geopolitical craziness that sucks us easily into the madness. I don’t know the right answer to everything, anything sometimes, but I know that when my silver fox tail bristles at the inauthenticity of the moment, I will stop and listen and possibly change course.

Rebekah Marshall @Home Studio

Lesson 7 The Way of the Wizard

(Poem 31 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“…what if,
in your dream…
you…plucked
a strange and beautiful flower?
And what if,
when you awoke
you had the flower
in your hand? What then?”

-Merlin, Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/RJcz5B

I am quite busy when I sleep
visiting my other children
on other earths and gathering
stardust to water my soul
for the long day ahead.
Rather than commute by
light-speed rail, I prefer the
back of a mother turtle, she
and I have history, literally.
While I’m away, my DNA
rebuilds universes and plants
mountains in oceans of silkworm
pool blankets, concave spools
of gravity-fed time laced
with walnut-scented singularities.
I’m not interested in rethreading
Karma’s needle for her, so I leave
that job to the space inside my atoms.
Wouldn’t you rather reminisce  
with intuition over a fine meal
and skip stones with suffering to
give him a much-needed break?
I enjoy negotiating with objectivity
and teasing paradox with infinity
before pouring myself back
into the divot that is this simple
creature curled up like a snail
inside a tiny crater of the cosmos.

@Home Studio – 31st poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp.52-56.

Runner ups for the AI Sleeping with a Flower photos to accompany my poem: