With the fire of grief, ever burning inside,
This humble heart of mine cherishes you day and night.

***

With its grief and worries plunging into sweet dreams,
My heart aches, O please, look at this servant once

***

Seeing you—be it a dream—is the sweetest purpose
Your very state and attitude, more beautiful than angels

***

Set your throne upon my heart, this time please let it happen
Those who subject us to eclipse, may God give their retribution

***

No more trace in hearts, of the initial meaning and excitement
Time passing without you, no different than the longest night

***

So many years have passed, since the sun’s setting
With gloom and hope, my heart has been palpitating

***

Here I remained sitting… hoping “the beloved will reach!”
To wipe away the tears I shed, with a soft touch.

***

Waiting all along, for this heart-grief to end,
The moment of awaited reunion, should not be wasted,

***

“Keep hopeful, be expectant!” the voice inside me says,
May God protect what is in hand, from devilish eyes.

***

Surely, one day the truth will take wing
Hang on tight to your hope, stop worrying.

***

The final breath of time bears an air of spring,
As nightingales sing, songs of glad tidings!…

There is often mixed joy and sorrow when traveling abroad, sometimes discovered in the journeying, sometimes found at the destination. Such a mixture was mine on a recent trip with Hizmet to India, where interfaith dialogue and its wonderful fruits across the many faiths of that subcontinent were very clearly evident, but that alongside increasing communal discord and even serious and extensive street violence in the face of protests against government policies of division and exclusion. Unfortunately, such social upheavals are today not limited to India; they seem to be spreading like fires in drought-stricken forests around the world, engulfing too many developing and developed countries, alike.

Early one morning around 2am, when sleep evaded me, I deeply felt the poignancy of this turbulent travel, while my mind drifted to recollect some stories often told of St Francis of Assisi preaching not only to human beings but to birds, as well as other creatures of creation:

When he drew nigh unto Bevagna he came unto a spot wherein a great multitude of birds of divers species were gathered together. When the holy man of God perceived them, he ran with all speed unto the place and greeted them as if they shared in human understanding. They on their part all awaited him and turned toward him, those that were perched on bushes bending their heads as he drew nigh them, and looking on him in unwonted wise, while he came right among them, and diligently exhorted them all to hear the word of God, saying: “My brothers the birds, much ought ye to praise your Creator, Who hath clothed you with feathers and given you wings to fly, and hath made over unto you the pure air, and careth for you without your taking thought for yourselves.” While he was speaking unto them these and other like words, the little birds—behaving themselves in wondrous wise—began to stretch their necks, to spread their wings, to open their beaks, and to look intently on him. He, with wondrous fervour of spirit, passed in and out among them, touching them with his habit, nor did one of them move from the spot until he had made the sign of the Cross over them and given them leave; then, with the blessing of the man of God, they all flew away together. All these things were witnessed by his companions that stood awaiting him by the way. Returning unto them, the simple and holy man began to blame himself for neglect in that he had not afore then preached unto the birds. [Saint Bonaventura, The Life of Saint Francis, 12.3]

And so I wondered (dreamed?), what might the birds tell us of their lives and struggles in this newly disruptive age?

The Birds: A Parable

Once upon a time, there was a bountiful flock of birds, all with iridescent blue-green plumage and a melodic trilling song of thanks through God for their heritage as a single community: together they preened, together they sang, together they lived and thrived upon the resource-laden land God gifted to their stewardship.

As time passed, other flocks were drawn to this same rich territory, as well, all with their varied distinctive plumage—fiery yellows and reds, subdued grayish-browns, and dazzling whites—and all with their individual God-given songs of praise.

The original flock generously welcomed all these newcomers, judging that sharing was better than selfish hoarding, opening better than closing ranks, and accepting different characteristics better than demanding uniformity in attributes. Together they fashioned a unity in their very diversity, sharing the riches of the land, extolling their variegated colors in songs to their Creator, generating a harmonious chorale that exemplified the Creator’s love for all of His making, as stewards of land and of one another, together…together. Generations passed in peace, colors and songs filled the land, and unity was manifested.

But a season came when a spirit of fearful possessiveness arose among some of the descendants of the blue-green flock, who began looking askance at those whose colors and songs differed. “What place have these foreigners amongst us? Have they not intruded into our way of life, depleted our resources and now threaten our very existence? Let them depart to other lands, apart from us, with their own kind.”

Though few in actual number in the beginning, these dissident voices seeded fear and discord, which took root and grew widely where once unity had thrived. For although the ones they called “foreigners” had passed many generations upon the shared land and even now comprised only a small proportion of the overall population, hardship borne of dissimulation had come to many of the birds across all the flocks. Stewardship of the land had been overshadowed by exploitation of resources for the benefit of a greedy few, and the detriment of many. Now, a scapegoat was needed to divert attention from the real causes of increasing distress and hardship.

Arbitrary hierarchies were manufactured and enforced, purporting to be inherent and according to “purity” of color and song. Only those deemed worthy now had a proper place in society, and their numbers were strictly circumscribed by documented ancestry via sole descent from the first flock. All others were relegated to some separate, ignoble status. And now, uniformity and unison in song, rather than harmony of distinctives, became the priority: “How else could the Creator receive proper praise? So-called harmony was really just cacophony, and no God could be pleased with that!” If the song were different, it had no arena, even when the song was echoing celestial praise; if the bird’s color and song were different, the bird was no longer welcomed, it had no place.

Unity was shattered, harmony disappeared, estrangement normalized. Jealously ostracizing others became the common rule. Harsh words became the norm…violence the ready remedy…destruction, injury and death the ultimate result.

More fully awake, now, I considered, “Can the birds recover themselves? Can they listen anew to St Francis’ call together joyously to offer praise to their Creator and so be content? Or is it too late?”

Perhaps more importantly, is there more than a fanciful story, here? what might these birds tell us of today’s challenges to our societies…to our very humanity? Can we, today, respond to the call of St Francis as did the birds of the field near Bevagna, to live together in peace unto the praise our Creator, seeking only His commendation?

When President Trump recently visited India, banners were emblazoned with the slogan that the world’s oldest democracy was meeting with the world’s largest democracy. Thomas Mann, in 1947 testimony before a U.S. congressional committee, noted a depressing increase in “spiritual intolerance, political inquisitions, and declining legal security,” that typically foreshadows an ultimate breakdown in democracy itself, which can only finally usher in a breakdown in societal peace and prosperity (subsequently realized in the fever of McCarthyism in the US, and the violent partition of India). Where there is no sense of the sacred through acceptance of difference and mutuality in dialogue, there is eventually only polarization: there will be those who agree to think the same way who are called friends; while all the rest are demonized as enemies. And where there are only friends and enemies, insiders and outsiders, “us” and “them,” civil war—metaphoric at least, actual bloodletting at worst—is inevitable.

So, can India recover itself? It was once the standard bearer of secular/multi-faith democracy in the developing world—or is it too late? Can we in the US recover ourselves? We were once the standard bearer of an immigrant-filled country grounded on practicing civil discourse in the developed world—or is it too late?

May the Creator grant that we all together comprehend and affirm His path of acceptance, affirmation, and peacemaking:

The Spirit has never ceased brooding over the waters … ever creating, superintending, re-creating, all that is, according to the counsel of God’s own purposive will. Together with the angels and saints, we rejoice in faith, hope and love, as the Only Holy One continually, eternally renews the face of the heavens and the earth.
Our Only Creator
through His creation
is creating us
is sustaining us
is provisioning us
is re-creating us
unto the restoration
of all His creation.

Bent down in prayer as winds blow by.

No glimpse of greed or poverty,

Once again she stretches up beneath the sky.

Listen closely to the flower’s song,

As pedals play their part.

To turn Man’s eye for a moment long,

To God’s great work of art.

“See order in my rhythm,

See plan in my design.

See prayer in my precision.

’I’ve been sent here as a sign.

Ponder now, before I’m gone,

For winter here draws nigh.

Without knowledge of why we’re here,

Is not wisdom naught but a lie?

And as I sing my final song,

This is what we all will learn.

To God it is we all belong,

And to Him is our return.”

Talha Sarac: Your Zen master used to call you “setu” which means, “bridge” in English. We all noticed that he was not wrong. You have been a bridge between East and West, “new” and “old,” people and nature. But what is your real purpose in doing your music?

Kitaro: People are losing their cultures day by day. The technology and this global village concept is and will be dominating the world. I want everybody to remember their origins and cultural heritage. This is not difficult. We only have to re-invent ourselves. My purpose is to help everybody in this process.

TS: What has changed since Albatross in your life?

Kitaro: A lot of things… right now, I am busy re-inventing my music and myself. This is a really strange situation, but I think it will help me get even better.

TS: How did you establish your own style, which you do not want people to categorize but is usually called “new age”?

Kitaro: The genre “new age” is roughly 20 years old. But, I want to tell you first, I think all this categorization should be reconsidered and organized again. For example, I do not want to put my style under any current category, because I do not believe there is one that suits…

TS: So you say we better have a category named after you…

Kitaro: That would be nice. (Laughs…)

TS: How do you decide to compose a new song and what influence you in that process?

Kitaro: Even a bird’s singing can be the influence for a new song. I love the nature and I am complete with it. Since, I live in the mountains, I have the chance to go out of the house and take a walk by the lake and listen to the nature’s original sounds. I cannot say that people can be helpful to me while composing, but the sunrises and sunsets are invaluable to me and to my music.

TS: What kind of circumstances should there be when you are composing your music, and does closing your eyes help you in any way when you are performing?

Kitaro: I have to be really alone when I am composing. I do not have many guests in my house in Colorado, but this does not mean I am reclusive. I have to be away from stress and be able to hear my heart. And this is only possible in my lakeside…

TS: You do not only use the latest technology in your music but you also use the oldest instruments which we do not know the names of. What are you trying to do?

Kitaro: People tend to forget what they were like, how they used to live and what their interests were. I am trying to bring the old and new together and blend the outcomes. It is not clever to ignore the richness and originality in the old instruments. And nobody can deny the practicality of the newest instruments. So I think I am lucky enough to be able to use all the instruments that could help my music get even better.

TS: There is a conception that the music Far Eastern musicians make is made to be enjoyed by Far Eastern people. But your music is widely accepted and appreciated in almost any part of the world. Is that conception is a misconception?

Kitaro: I believe in international music. Of course, every nation has its own traditional and cultural music perspectives. But, I am trying to make music beyond peoples. I see all the world nations as one big nation. The differences between those nations do not influence my music in a negative way.

TS: So that is the secret to your music then…

Kitaro: Keep your voice down… (laughs again…)

TS: You are also known the “peaceful” musician of the “peaceful” music. What are your thoughts about the ongoing struggles in Kosovo and in the other parts of world?

Kitaro: The world is coming to an end, and unfortunately we can not do anything to stop this. This war in Kosovo is a shameful war which we will regret to talk about in the future to our kids. I, of course, would like to participate in a concert that would be held in the war area, but I do not think those refugees are in a situation that they will enjoy a concert.

TS: Could you tell anything about your mysterious trip to Mt Fuji to perform the ritual drum ceremony?

Kitaro: I go there every year to play wadaikos. This year it will be performed in September fullmoon. This ceremony should be considered as my thanks to the nature which is the main influence on my music. There is no economic or politic reason to this ceremony.

TS: After this “New Millennium Tour” are there any other projects in or outside of the US?

Kitaro: As for the concert projects, no. But we have this new album coming out probably on September. The album is called “Thinking Of You.” I composed this song, which gave its name to the album, on the last Valentine’s Day. I hope everybody will enjoy listening to, as much as I did composing it. 

TS: We love to listen to Kitaro, but who does Kitaro listen to?

Kitaro: I like traditional music, and I try to listen to different nations’ traditional music. I want to say that, unfortunately, people tend to listen to their traditional music less and less…