(November 10th, 2006) Due to the work being accomplished on the Bahá'à International Archives Building the items have been temporarily moved and styled in a completely new arrangement, featuring items not seen in recent years, in the Banquet Hall of t
A rather brief and vast experience, the door is open and inviting,
Three elegant, serene cabinets beckon from the end of the room,
The right side holds the black and white pen portrait of the Báb,
With a nod the artist in Tabríz undertakes his unspoken desire,
Calm and lovely in charm, sits in cool composure, now wrapped in watercolor,
A request of Bahá'u'lláh, a precious gift to the world.
In the middle, three portrayals of Bahá'u'lláh, benediction, dervish, bathhouse,
An Armenian Christian to gaze upon the Ancient Beauty in Assyria,
Flowing black locks, light-brown skin tone, peaceful and happy,
The Wronged One of the world, three rivers of splendid joy,
On the left, the most captivating, tantalizing, awe-inspiring photograph ever taken in the history of man,
The setting, exact as a well known photo of 'Abdu'l-Bahá, Bahá'u'lláh is overpowering,
Taken during the exile in Ottoman lands, a lasting legacy to such a privileged few,
A gentle reminder to look beyond the picture and behold His ever-present Spirit.
And weaving to and fro we travel into the roots of our Faith, tears and joy cascade through our souls;
The blue ring of Quddús, the triumphant sword of Mullá Husayn,
A dull cannon ball from Tabarsí, sad segment of the stone floor of the Síyáh-Chál,
Simply eyeglasses and only known letter of Navvab,
Fluid handwriting of the Mírzá Mihdí, dust from the coffin of the Báb,
Colored pencils and drawing instruments of the Guardian,
A picture of Shoghi Effendi with a small smirk upon his countenance,
The Binoculars of 'Abdu'l-Bahá, the brooch from Queen Maria of Romania,
The story was revitalizing, tender and heartfelt, penetrating,
The constant drum of the Fire within our souls was pulsating,
To fall in beat with the constant sacrifice and complete detachment our very eyes had witnessed,
To take our place and follow the guidance before us,
For Bahá'u'lláh is shining down, the Báb is wreathed in light,
'Abdu'l-Bahá our constant guide, The Greatest Holy Leaf our brilliant archtype,
The Guardian our here and now, Navvab the Most Holy Mother with open ear.
Poetry by Jon Aflatooni
Read 1207 times
Written on 2006-11-10 at 16:18
Tags Religion Soul
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The Archives Banquet
A rather brief and vast experience, the door is open and inviting,
Three elegant, serene cabinets beckon from the end of the room,
The right side holds the black and white pen portrait of the Báb,
With a nod the artist in Tabríz undertakes his unspoken desire,
Calm and lovely in charm, sits in cool composure, now wrapped in watercolor,
A request of Bahá'u'lláh, a precious gift to the world.
In the middle, three portrayals of Bahá'u'lláh, benediction, dervish, bathhouse,
An Armenian Christian to gaze upon the Ancient Beauty in Assyria,
Flowing black locks, light-brown skin tone, peaceful and happy,
The Wronged One of the world, three rivers of splendid joy,
On the left, the most captivating, tantalizing, awe-inspiring photograph ever taken in the history of man,
The setting, exact as a well known photo of 'Abdu'l-Bahá, Bahá'u'lláh is overpowering,
Taken during the exile in Ottoman lands, a lasting legacy to such a privileged few,
A gentle reminder to look beyond the picture and behold His ever-present Spirit.
And weaving to and fro we travel into the roots of our Faith, tears and joy cascade through our souls;
The blue ring of Quddús, the triumphant sword of Mullá Husayn,
A dull cannon ball from Tabarsí, sad segment of the stone floor of the Síyáh-Chál,
Simply eyeglasses and only known letter of Navvab,
Fluid handwriting of the Mírzá Mihdí, dust from the coffin of the Báb,
Colored pencils and drawing instruments of the Guardian,
A picture of Shoghi Effendi with a small smirk upon his countenance,
The Binoculars of 'Abdu'l-Bahá, the brooch from Queen Maria of Romania,
The story was revitalizing, tender and heartfelt, penetrating,
The constant drum of the Fire within our souls was pulsating,
To fall in beat with the constant sacrifice and complete detachment our very eyes had witnessed,
To take our place and follow the guidance before us,
For Bahá'u'lláh is shining down, the Báb is wreathed in light,
'Abdu'l-Bahá our constant guide, The Greatest Holy Leaf our brilliant archtype,
The Guardian our here and now, Navvab the Most Holy Mother with open ear.
Poetry by Jon Aflatooni
Read 1207 times
Written on 2006-11-10 at 16:18
Tags Religion Soul
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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