Friday, December 22, 2017

Excerpts From Jesus,The Son Of Man BY Khalil Gibran

Andre Rider-The Nightingale's Prayer

Excerpts from Jesus,The son Of man
Khalil Gibran

Jesus As told and recorded by
Pilate's wife to a Roman lady

I was walking with my maidens in the groves outside of Jerusalem
when I saw Him with a few men and women sitting about Him;
and He was speaking to them in a language which I only half understood.

But one needs not a language to perceive a pillar of light
or a mountain of crystal. The heart knows what the tongue
may never utter and the ears may never hear.

He was speaking to His friends of love and srength.
I know He spoke of love because there was melody in His voice;
and I know He spoke of strength because there were armies in
His gestures.

When He saw me passing by He stopped speaking
for a moment and looked kindly upon me.

After that day His image visited my privacy when I would
not be visited by man or woman; and His eyes searched
my soul when my own eyes were closed.
And His voice governs the stillness of my nights.
I am held fast forevermore; and there is peace in my pain,
and freedom in my tears.

Beloved friend, you have never seen that man,
and you will never see Him.
He is gone beyond our senses,
but of all men He is now the nearest to me.

Joseph surnamed Justus On
Jesus the Wayfarer

He sang a song and none shall arrest that melody.
It shall hover from generation to generation and it shall rise
from sphere to sphere remembering the lips that gave it birth
and the ears that cradled it.

He was a stranger. Aye, He was a stranger,
a wayfarer on His way to a shrine,
a visitor who knocked at our door,
a guest from a far country.
And because He found not a gracious host,
He has returned to His own place.

John at Patmos On
Jesus the Gracious

Once more I would speak of Him.
God gave me the voice and the burning lips
though not the speech.
And unworthy am I for the fuller word,
yet I would summon my heart to my lips.

Jesus loved me and I knew not why.
And I loved Him because He quickened my spirit to heights
beyond my stature, and to depths beyond my sounding.

Love is a sacred mystery.
To those who love, it remains forever wordless;
But to those who do not love, it may be but a heartless jest.

I was young then and only the voice of dawn had visited my ears.
But His voice and the trumpet of His voice was the end of my labor
and the beginning of my passion.

And there were naught for me then but to walk in the sun
and worship the loveliness of the hour.
Could you conceive a majesty too kind to be majestic?
And a beauty too radiant to seem beautiful?
Could you hear in your dreams a voice shy of its own rapture?
He called me and I followed Him.

His fragrance called me and commanded me, but only to release me.
Love is a gracious host to his guests though to the unbidden
his house is a mirage and a mockery.

John the son of Zebedee
On the various apellations of Jesus

He is the first Word, which would speak with our voice and
live in our ear that we may heed and understand.

And the Word of the Lord our God builded a house of flesh
and bones, and was man like unto you and myself.

For we could not hear the song of the bodiless wind nor see
our greater self walking in the mist...

Yet the sound of His voice descended never to emptiness,
for the memory of man keeps that which his mind takes no care to keep.

This is the Christ, the innermost and the height,
who walks with man towards eternity.

In my heart dwells Jesus of Galilee, the Man above men,
the Poet who makes poets of us all, the Spirit who knocks
at our door that we may wake and rise and walk out to meet
truth naked and unencumbered.

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