BEYOND THE VEIL - Andre Lefebvre
I sometimes feel the journey's weight, the sting of anguish over some possible erring, doubt walking beside me, hissing in me ears. It is night, but I keep
walking, confident that somehow, Someone is leading me.
I try to remember the Joy, Peace and Drunkenness of the freedom received each time I turned to God and trusted in Him. This heaving emotion that makes
one grasp a sense of balance in everything pertaining to existence, where all has its proper place. I feel the tranquil power watching over, and I bathe in the
affection of God for His Creation.
Writing, music, worship, are all heaven opening roads, the door of light itself to my soul rising up and rushing toward Life, as to a recovered loved one.
L e a v i n g
On my way to the Holy City,
A glance back to where I come from,
The broken chains, the empty prison,
And the town where I lost myself.
Many times I went out, only to come back.
The same sick and deceiving roads,
The same apprehensions,
Treading the same deep grooves,
Scars in the tilled soil
Where my way once seemed sketched.
There I would walk,
There I would sleep,
There I would lay and die,
There, wake up again.
The plowing changed it all.
I felt the anguish of being roadless,
The flat freedom of walking on, straight on,
Always here, never "anywhere",
Seeking, aching for the taste of life.
Leaving all, selling all,
Giving all, losing all
For this one thing: the fulness of the human experience,
The essence of being.
Landscapes roll on.
I am walking to the mountains,
Gliding into the valleys,
Eye-seizing a landmark,
Suddenly looking toward a bird song.
Nothing here is home,
Out there, could it be?...
Recovering a memory,
When compared to its promise),
The fulness of a keenly felt moment,
And its hurting absence.
Oh, to heal of this pain
That pulls me onward.
S a i l i n g
The land finally betrays me.
Unto a liquid field
I set to move
Inside a giant shell.
The powerful breathing sea
Seems oblivious to my fears.
"Holy City, Sacred place of my hopes,
The waiting hurts..."
I feel abandoned, incomplete.
The closer I get,
The more brutal the thirst,
But faith in the Quest urges me on.
The sea roars and closes its hands on me
The ship fades into the dark abyss,
My heart wrapped in its shroud.
I am lost, numbed, empty.
Waves upon waves
Carry me on the waters,
The shore receives my prayer.
I push the ground away from me
Set my face toward the land,
And with all that I am
I embrace the distance
To the City.
Am I really going to it
Or is it coming to me?
I look back to the dancing waters
The playful sea keeps whispering
Smiling at me.
God's call is strange.
Death only brings me closer.
Can't really turn me away from it.
The closer I get,
The more brutal is the pain of thirst.
A r r i v i n g
The City awaits,
A crown upon a hill.
I warmed myself
At the hearth
Of this waken dream
That made its home in me.
Now, I enter its gates.
I walk to the temple.
I tremble, one foot on the temple's steps.
My heart bursting
With a fierce tribal dance
Time has been my measure for distance.
Now, everything goes fast.
Each step is like a mile,
Each yard like crossing a continent.
I am close to the sun.
Top of the stairs, a door.
Before opening, the whole journey rushes back to me.
Strangely, the weariness gives me strenght and breath.
E n t e r i n g
At once, no more distance
Nor time between two places.
This veil, there, torn in two,
Invites to the Presence like open arms.
I step forward,
Like entering into a lake.
My eyes feel around to sense where I am.
High on the walls
Beams of light join their hands
Across the room...
The floor shimmers like white-hot steel.
The air is robed with deep and wild fragrances,
Scents of gone centuries
Reaching far and wide into my senses.
A table with bread,
A seven branched candlestick,
A brass basin,
An altar smoking with perfume,
Two gigantic angels
Face to face,
The tip of their wings touching.
The ground runs beyond the veil.
With my eyes I draw a line
From my feet to a point beyond.
A slight dizziness coils itself around me.
Richly weaved of purple, red and blue,
Two heavy curtains open on the Holy of Holies.
Many inside places vaguely foreseen while sailing,
Appearing now under a new light.
Life is here.
I hear this place: I was never alone.
Whipped by emotions unleashed,
I lift my face and hands,
With my whole heart I am dance and song.
I give grace for the ever sustaining life,
The holiness of the call
And the light of love.
The journey's dust is washed away,
I sanctify myself to the One who visits
And led me here.
All the pain is swallowed
In my swirling anthem of freedom
The joyful walls chorals.
I tremble, but smile
To the guarding cherubims,
And walk right pass them,
T h e M e e t i n g
Oh, that voice, that voice!
It calls my name...
That voice, it knows my name...
That voice contains the worlds,
And yet it calls for me...
I am measured against this love...
His arms are a welcoming river,
Harbour tenderly pressing me
Against the shore of His breast,
His tears are mine.
His voice sets ablaze the multitude around us...
Our souls are baptized
In each other's love cry. We are one.
Andre Lefebvre (Montréal, octobre1995)