Morning
I swear by God! Were he that treadeth the path of guidance
and seeketh to scale the heights of righteousness to attain unto this glorious
and supreme station, [“the stations of absolute certitude”] he would inhale at
a distance of a thousand leagues the fragrance of God, and would perceive the
resplendent morn of a divine Guidance rising above the dayspring of all things.
Each and every thing, however small, would be to him a revelation leading him
to his Beloved, the Object of his quest. So great shall be the discernment of
this seeker that he will discriminate between truth and falsehood even as he
doth distinguish the sun from shadow. If in the uttermost corners of the East
the sweet savours of God be wafted, he will assuredly recognize and inhale
their fragrance, even though he be dwelling in the uttermost ends of the West.
He will likewise clearly distinguish all the signs of God—His wondrous
utterances, His great works, and mighty deeds—from the doings, words and ways
of men, even as the jeweller who knoweth the gem from the stone, or the man who
distinguisheth the spring from autumn and heat from cold. When the channel of
the human soul is cleansed of all worldly and impeding attachments, it will
unfailingly perceive the breath of the Beloved across immeasurable distances,
and will, led by its perfume, attain and enter the City of Certitude. Therein
he will discern the wonders of His ancient wisdom, and will perceive all the
hidden teachings from the rustling leaves of the Tree—which flourisheth in that
City. With both his inner and his outer ear he will hear from its dust the
hymns of glory and praise ascending unto the Lord of Lords, and with his inner
eye will he discover the mysteries of “return” and “revival”. How unspeakably
glorious are the signs, the tokens, the revelations, and splendours which He
Who is the King of names and attributes hath destined for that City! The
attainment of this City quencheth thirst without water, and kindleth the love
of God without fire. Within every blade of grass are enshrined the mysteries of
an inscrutable wisdom, and upon every rose-bush a myriad nightingales pour out,
in blissful rapture, their melody. Its wondrous tulips unfold the mystery of
the undying Fire in the Burning Bush, and its sweet savours of holiness breathe
the perfume of the Messianic Spirit. It bestoweth wealth without gold, and
conferreth immortality without death. In every leaf ineffable delights are
treasured, and within every chamber unnumbered mysteries lie hidden.
- Baha’u’llah (‘Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u’llah’)
Evening