The Language of Life LOVE Original Poems of Inspired Love
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Vol.II SEED-THOUGHT SERIES A Division of THE NERENBERG INSTITUTE T he Language of Life Dr. Nerenberg has been in practice for over 40 years. He is also considered the strongest, drug-free, man in the world for his weight and age The Language (born 1941) on the Bench Press, on the T-Bar- Strongman-Pull, the Power-Grip, and the Power- Pull-Up. At near 70 years of age, while sitting on the of Life ground, he pulled two F-150 Ford pickup trucks with 6 passengers, for a total of over 14,000 lbs. He is • internationally known for his pioneering work on LO road rage. He has written over 100 books and likes to share “the bottom line” about all aspects of life. It VE HEART is the intention of his work to uplift society for at least 1000 years emotionally, spiritually, physically, - intellectually, and socially. Dr . Arnold LOVE P. Nerenber g, Ph.D . By Dr. Arnold P. Nerenberg, Ph.D. Dr. Arnold P. Nerenberg, Ph.D. The Language of Life LOVE Original Poems of Inspired Love by Arnold P. Nerenberg, Ph.D. Copyright © 2012 Second Edition Arnold P. Nerenberg, Ph.D. All rights reserved SEED-THOUGHT PUBLISHERS ® A Division of The Nerenberg Institute 7238 S. Painter Avenue Los Angeles County Whittier, California 90602 (562) 693-5600 [email protected] nerenberginstitute.com Dedicated to Mahin, my only true Beloved on this earth. Table of Contents Chapter Page I. The Fragrance 1 - 37 of Love II. My Beloved 38 - 158 III. My Friend, My Wife, 159 - 219 My Beloved IV. Romantic & 220 - 286 Transcendental Love All are asleep until awakend by the dream of the Beloved. Introduction I have written these poems over many years. The first three chapters were originally very short books. In more recent years I added the fourth chapter comprised of the poems I was able to locate; oth- ers to be found and others to be written later will be in the next edition. The poems are inspired by and dedicated to my beloved wife, Mahin. Some are written in moments of transcendence, a glimpse of poignancy. Others, particularly those of yearning, are more constant and every day. These poems could never have been expressed without the transformation of re- ceptivity within my heart caused by the Writings of Baha’u’lla’h; Prophet, “He Whom God shall make manifest.” My beloved on earth is Mahin. My Beloved in the spiritual realm is Baha’u’llah. They are both Persians, and each has brought me closer to the other. For you who are reading this, I am extremely grateful for whatever upliftment you receive, and the Beloved for you is your highest values and priorities as well. During the last several years, I have confined almost all my inner conversations of my thoughts to God, Baha’u’llah, and the other Major Prophets. The only living person on earth with whom I speak to internally is Mahin. Prior to that I had inner conver- sations with many people that I know. That decion has deepened my relationship with my wife and deepend my understanding that God alone is the Help in Peril. The poem on page 275 of this edition is not clearly understand by myself; at times it appears I am speaking to Mahin; at others it seems that I give expression to a far more Inspired Thought of Holiness. Dr. Arnold P. Nerenberg, Ph.D. March 14, 2012 Chapter I The Fragrance of Love The Scent Eternal How do I prepare for my beloved? Flowers and cologne, jewels and music, foods of delight, but first I give her my poem. 1 Oh beloved, your tender flow of life makes me caress your gentle beauty and feel the poignant river of your being in time and beyond. 2 You are the poem of my being the source of my seeing; you are more than anything I have ever sought, you rejoice me completely. 3 All existence is begotten by the yearning of the beloved; she calls and the ancient breath is drawn, she moves and the Word is created so that her lover may whisper her name. 4 You deliver me from myself, for without you I am a slave of my own oppression. 5 The storms and seas are calmed, the winds are soothed by the glance of the beloved. 6 The rain falling at dawn, I say your name. 7 For me, there is no place that you are not. 8 Emptiness, loneliness nothingness and void, you have prepared me for my beloved. 9 I kiss the hand of my destroyer who prepared me for my lover. 10 I fled the void till I found it to be the antechamber to the beloved’s home. 11 I called and called for a lover and none answered. Within the emptiness of the void, within my loneliness I cried out again and again, only to hear the stillness within my own nothingness. I screamed out within the core of my being, until I could no more. Then, the earth trembled and I became annihilated with love. 12 Oh beloved, you are the dream dancer of the night lit by the moon of your being, swaying, swaying in the ocean of your mysterious breeze beneath the stars lit by the glow of your hair. Oh warmth of the world ablazed by the love lighted in your eyes, you are the heat of union, the fire of the sun; you are the vapor of life yearning to be known in the beauty of its own essence. 13 The charm, the ancient charm pulls me out of myself till I can only call for you alone. 14 From within the slumber of forgetfulness the Eye of the Ancient Beholder awakens and gazes into the beloved, proclaiming its own eternity. 15 Love merged with itself in the void and became creation. 16 The hidden dream becomes known to itself. 17 Your compassion is the source of hope, healing, and life itself. 18 You are the Chant that causes flesh, life that warms the earth, beckoning existence within myself so that I might feel your love. 19 Oh Awaited One, my eyes cannot close in your presence, for they are opened, the inner membrane lifts, and I am stunned with awe. 20 I seek you, I find you; you enter as a smile in my eyes and on my lips. 21 With you in my eyes I am more than I am. 22 How I have missed you. Welcome! Welcome into myself. 23 Beloved, beloved, beloved, only you enter my loneliness. 24 Can it be me that the beloved has chosen? I am speechless and shy. 25 Unworthly, unworthly I am to enter the paradise of my beloved’s heart; yet she beckons me. I should not look into her eyes, yet she bids me to enter. I prostrate myself at her feet and she lifts me with her love. 26 The beloved calls, the lover falls. 27 Even the rock melts. 28 And still I cannot believe she is mine, for all my life... 29 ... I sought my beloved in the eyes of all I met; I sought to be worthy through every effort I made, and I failed in all I sought and did. And then she came to me within my own being. ... 30 … Why do you come to me?” I ask. “I am not worthy.” She answers that I was chosen for knowing within my gentle and loving heart that I am nothing. ... 31 … And I dance for the moment that is mine. The stars, the night, the moon the fire of my life, I am yours. 32 The nectar of paradise in the dream of eternity is the swooning in the delight of surrender to the rapture of love pulsating within the heart of the beloved. 33 All the days of my life are yours; you are the treasure, the cause for which I live. 34 In the flame of union’s desire the lover --as soul-- yearns to blazon out of his body and mix in perfect oneness with his beloved. 35 In the power of union there are no walls, the beings surge their innermost essences pouring into one, stunning transforming fusion. 36 Oh mystic beauty, your voice is my peace, your eyes my being, you are the blood of my life, the pulse in my veins and heart; you are the mystery that gives meaning to all existence. 37 Chapter II My Friend, My Wife, My Beloved Ideals and Realities of Love 38 Our Seeing Tree Let us sit in the shade of our Seeing Tree, where all that exists are the faces of you and me; we look into each other’s eyes and see each other seeing with love 39 You are the Land-of-My-Ancestors; you are my Heritage; you are my past, my present, my future. All that has happened to me prepares me for you. You are the joy of this moment. You are my Hope for my future. 40 Is there a melody or story of love that is not of you? 41 Mahin Hard swirling winds sweep across the forests of my mind. Vast ocean waves pound my thoughts on rocky shores, pound my thoughts without decline. When the hurricane of myself tears across my eyes I endure the darkness, the turbulence of my night. Thoughts in flight raging anger songs of fright. I endure. Hard swirling winds sweep across the vast forests of my mind, pounding thoughts without decline.