Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own, you were bought at a price.

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

The soul that vacates the physical body and enters the inner spiritual regions is symbolized in this Kabir poem by the bumblebee. Like the bumblebee that goes from flower to flower collecting nectar, the soul soars within and collects the ambrosia of bliss from the lotus in the inner regions. Kabir also refers to the practice in medieval times, when sailors’ wives would light a lamp in front of their house and keep and all-night vigil for their husbands’ return. The wife or soul who has realized the Lord’s love within her heart keeps a vigil within herself and does not look for Him outside the body. Kabir says that this state of inner love and realization is the gift of the Master; it is only with his grace that the disciple overcomes the passions, stills his mind, goes within and tastes the ambrosia of divine love.

The bumblebee has tasted

The ambrosia within.

Why need that longing wife light the lamp,

Whose heart is lit with love’s flame?

If she ceases to go elsewhere,

If she seeks Him within her own body,

She will gain union with her Husband.

The bumblebee will taste

The ambrosia within.

In an instant

I vanquished the robbers

Through the power of my Master.

Says Kabir: Listen, O friends,

While living I won the battle

When I conquered my body and mind.

And the bumblebee tastes

The ambrosia within.

The Slumbering Wife

Awake, dear friend,

Awake – sleep no more;

The night has faded away,

Why in sleep waste also the day?

Awake, dear friend, sleep no more.

Those who have awakened

Have found the rare ruby;

O foolish woman, while you slept

You even lost what you had.

The night has faded away,

Why in sleep waste also the day?

Your husband is wise and alert;

You are foolish, O witless wife-

You never prepared the bed

For your husband to rest.

The night has faded away,

Why in sleep waste also the day?

O crazy woman,

A blunder you’ve made;

During the vivacious days

Of your youth

Not once did you try

To recognize your husband,

To make Him your own.

The night has faded away,

why in sleep waste also the day?

Wake up, become aware-

See your bed is empty,

The Beloved is not there;

He left you while you were

On the embrace of sleep.

The night has now faded away,

Why in sleep waste also the day?

Says Kabir: Only that wife awakes

Whose heart is pierced

By the arrow of Shabd.

The Georgia Review, Summer 1997

Fifty Years

“I found a pair of eyeglasses

at the edge of the woods – ”

an old farmer says in a bar.

And then says nothing. Shrugs,

a cough, small sound without

echo of the farmer’s beer glass

returned to the bar. “Once I

found a wig by the road,”

the bartender says. “Auburn wig.

Picked it up, and this dead

cat was underneath.” “Shut

up,” the farmer says, stands

and looks ready to throw his

glass. The bartender and two

other customers have known this

man all his life. ” The woods,”

he says now. ” Fifty years

ago. A woman’s pair of glasses.

Figured she was in there.

Naked of her glasses, and I

never forgot that.” He stares

at each of the three men.

It’s why I never married,”

he says. ” Why I’ll die alone.”

Dennis Trudell