Bahá’ís of the world commemorate this First day of the Bahá’í Month of Jalál [Glory] after sunset today or before sunset tomorrow.
“Sonnet in Honour of the Feast of Jalál [Glory]”
“The Dread of Moments”
Dread potentials, moments in the mould,
Images of nascent idols set to polish, so the keeper at his ease
Recalls; the times are shorter now; is not urgency greater than needs
Concealed within in a stamen that cannot yet unfold?
Nothing enters, nothing leaves this place, nothing’s free.
There are fears that in the groaning, smoothly flowing
Movement, here to there, the fruit and flower growing ever knowing
Unities of purpose, oblivious of confidence in returning delicacy.
Potential glory for the anther in the night,
auspicated but veiled in atavistic fate.
From here to there spells a restive, wearied state
In seconds–hours, really–and the weighty knowledge
that what augurs beauty pains in coming ever slightly too late,
“. . .And I’ll be going, now!” The pistil whispers thus: “I too am late!”
The stigma argues as the fruit becomes too ripe,
as aspirations of modernity expose their flaws
At dusk or dawn as substances within themselves
scribble all their glories in the name of natural laws.