Tuesday, April 1, 2014

The Rose


The rose is an indisputable symbol of love. But at the same time it bears in herself the secret hidden for set of fine petals. The mystery of the rose lies at its mystic centre. In its fragrant folds lies the natural mandala of concentric circles leading to the solar heart at its centre. Its meaning is affected by the number of its petals: the four of the cardinal points, the five of the microcosm and the six of the macrocosm, the seven-petalled of space, time and conditions of matter. The white rose symbolises light, innocence, purity and spiritual unfolding. And the crimson petals of the red rose have been likened to drops of blood and passion. This fiery symbol can mean both heavenly and earthly passion, eternity and time, life and death, virginity and fertility. It also symbolizes the full spectrum of the female principle from the highest level. But it is the central point where duality is transcended and the red of rajas will transform to shining sattva.
The Hebrews likened its centre to the sun and the petals to the infinite but harmonious diversities of nature. They claimed that the rose emanated from the Tree of Life. In Islam, the first circle of the rose of Baghdad represent cosmic law. The second circle they called the Path, the third, Knowledge, and the three together defined Truth and all the names of Allah. In Christianity, the rose on the cross is associated with the blood of the martyrs, the wounds of Christ and the Virgin Mary, who became known as Rosa Mystica. In the same time, the rose symbolizes the Paradise and the Love of God.
In either case the rose signified an intense sense of devotion, and a reconcilation of heavenly and earthy love. This connection occurs if we are capable to pursue our love along the pathway of her higher nature which leads, like the mandala pattern, to the mystic centre of our quest. And earthy love, like the rose, becomes the reflection of a multifoliated symbol of heaven. And then, the red rose unite its heart's desire to the pure white light of the cosmic rose.

I dreamed I came to a magnificent city
whose palace was the rose, rose.
The crown and throne of the great sultan,
his garden and chambers
were the rose, rose.

Here they buy and sell but roses
and the roses are the scales they use,
Weighing roses with more roses,
the marketplace and bazaar
are all roses, rose.

The white rose and the red rose
grew coupled in one garden.
Their faces turn as one toward the thorn.
Both thorn and blossom
are the rose, rose.

Soil is the rose and stone is the rose,
withered is the rose, fresh is the rose.
Within the Lord's private gardens
both slender cypress and old maple
are the rose, rose.

The rose is turning the waterwheel
and gets ground between the stones.
The wheel turns round as the water flows.
Its power and its stillness
are the rose, rose.

From the rose a tent appears
filled with an offering of everything.
Its gatekeepers are the holy prophets.
The bread and the wine they pour
are the rose, rose.

Oh Ummi Sinan, heed the mystery
of the sorrow of nightingale and rose.
Every cry of the forlorn nightingale
is for the rose, the rose.
  poem by Ummi Sinan 

No comments: