Here is a small offering for my absence:
A sufi, having journeyed without provision, came to a mosque where he thought to sleep a little while untroubled. But the townsfolk saw him and accused him of impiety and sloth. The worshippers clutched him by his soiled cloak and dragged him by the feet outside, and his head struck each step in turn and his blood flowed freely.
Lying in the road before the mosque, he was covered in dust and caked in blood. The townsfolk shouted curses at him for befouling their place of worship. When asked by them about his miserable state, he answered, “By your curses, I am relieved of curse. And I have known no greater blessing that to incarnadine His road and the steps to His presence with my life’s blood.”
A sufi, having journeyed without provision, came to a mosque where he thought to sleep a little while untroubled. But the townsfolk saw him and accused him of impiety and sloth. The worshippers clutched him by his soiled cloak and dragged him by the feet outside, and his head struck each step in turn and his blood flowed freely.
Lying in the road before the mosque, he was covered in dust and caked in blood. The townsfolk shouted curses at him for befouling their place of worship. When asked by them about his miserable state, he answered, “By your curses, I am relieved of curse. And I have known no greater blessing that to incarnadine His road and the steps to His presence with my life’s blood.”
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