The Ultimate Truth

Start by looking at the clear water,
And compare with the clarity of your deeds,
Its cooling freshness is a promise of a fresh start.
To meet such a worthy Master,

Wash your soul and clean it of its smog,
Emptying off its fickle thoughts and burdens.
With each limb say a prayer,

To be among the companions of the right not the left,
And allow this head to prostrate before You on that day;
When feet will slip on the narrow unlit path.
The body has been washed, the mind freed; and
The journey can begin.

Make the intention before Him,
Pledging your attempt at commitment,
To distance mind, body and soul
From its earthly engagements.
The business competitor forgotten,
Distracting wife and kin set aside.
Glorifying Him with your Lips,

And seeking His help and Mercy,

When acknowledging the burden of your sins.
The wings unfurl,
The soul can soar,
The servant is at the door of the garden.

Standing, suddenly bewildered,
In rehearsal of that day,
When wealth and children will avail no benefit,
And no wit, argument or prose will defend.
The arms now helplessly by your side,
Empty and silent,
Will testify and say all.
The firm ground below you,
Not opening to swallow your shame.
The time is now to plead and mitigate your loss.
Having proclaimed His greatness,
You can now begin in His name.

In the King of Kings’ court,
The beggar can raise his hands.
Which other king will grant immunity, release,
Complete your needs and give you peace?
The servant is weighed by his wants,
And the Master loves the seeker who asks.
Beg for the best of this world,
And the joys of the next,
And the greatest need:
Of reunion with the Imam.
To accompany your humble pleas and give them wings,
Send salutations to His most beloved ones.

Bowed down, hands on knees,
Facing the ground to which you’ll return,

Reminding yourself of your assured destination,

Where wealth and kin offer no salvation; and

Only the lamp of your deeds provides light in the dark.
Bow and abase yourself before Him,
To be raised in the eyes of men and lowered in your own.
“Glorified are You the Mightiest

Who hears those who praise Him!”
Having bowed to the worthy Master,
The servant now has the courage:
To rise again and face the world.

The forehead kisses the earth,
And gets a taste of heaven.
By the sword of total abasement,
To the Glorified, the most High,
Ego and desire meet their death,
Satan is slapped once again.
The servant is reminded of impending death,
And the final resting place.
Dust resting on dust,
Brings the servant face to face with truth:
He who has truly prostrated his head,
Has awakened and is now dead.

Prayer is the ultimate truth.