The blogger was acting up on the previous post, so had to shorten the text. The tomb of Khwaja Ansari, unlike the "force field" encounter before that, was very moving. I held the cage, prayed with all my might for the safety of my loved ones, and then decided to check out the remote praying cave of Guardian Pir of Herat, Although the tomb is visited by hundred of pilgrims, I was told, not many attempt to climb up, because of distance.
In the 11th century, Khwaja Ansari prayed on top of a hill, about 20 min drive and another 20 min walk away from his current grave site.
We rented a taxi and climbed up the hills to see the simple cave which produced some of the beautiful philosophical poetry of that century.
Here's a sample, courtesy of Afghan-Web.com"From the unmanifest I came,
And piched my tent, in the Forest of Material existence.
I passed through mineral and vegetable kingdoms,
Then my mental equipment carried me into the animal kingdom;
Having reached there I crossed beyond it;
Then in the crystal clear shell of human heart
I nursed the drop of self in a Pearl,
And in association with good men
Wandered round the Prayer House,
And having experienced that, crossed beyond it;
Then I took the road that leads to Him,
And became a slave at His gate;
Then the duality disappeared
And I became absorbed in Him."
The path down was relatively uneventful, as my companions were as quiet and probably as contemplative of their identity.
In beautiful nature we are born, and in breathtaking nature we will take in our last breath. That universe gives us so many experiences to hold on to is just the wonderful topping.
