I traveled from God’s land to Godland,
whatever there was of white and black and color,
I saw and I watched.

I reflected, I pondered, I sought omens.
I saw the sun in the Atlantic Ocean—
at dawn
it rose from the sea,
and at twilight
it clothed itself in the black silk of night
within the sea.

I heard the roar of mountain rivers
in ancient Ariana,
and the stillness of the Mediterranean Sea
along the northern shores of Africa.

One evening, I saw the awe of the concrete giant—
New York—
from the lofty tower
of the United Nations building.

I saw light and illumination within darkness
in the Atlantic and the Pacific,
in the Mediterranean and the Black Sea.

I drifted upon the waters,
and from the mighty mountains of the Hindu Kush
I listened to the echo of my own cries.

I passed through the warm, humid forests of southern India
and walked across the scorching sands of Kuwait.

With the fairies of Mount Qaf in Abkhazia
I shared the evening meal,
I drank the wine of friendship,
and danced the dance of companionship

I crossed the Champs-Élysées and Piccadilly,
slept in Rome and Hamburg, Moscow and Amsterdam.

I traveled through the Alps
and the high mountains of Switzerland,
with their colorful villages
and sweet vineyards.

I visited the temples of Buddha in Siam,
and Srinivasan
in Andhra Pradesh.

The Taj Mahal on the banks of the Yamuna,
the pyramids along the Nile,
the ruins of Carthage in Tunisia,
the palaces of Farouk in Alexandria.

Versailles, cradle of liberty, near Paris,
Saint Peter’s Cathedral
in the Vatican,
Baalbek in Lebanon,
Ulugh Beg’s observatory in Samarkand,
and countless temples and mosques—
I visited, I journeyed.

From God’s land to Godland
the road is endless,
filled with white and black and colors.

And we must have eyes to see and ears to hear,
we must possess reason and awareness
so that truth and love
we may grasp,
praise,
and worship.

Jadi 1385 (January 2007)
Fremont, California