Seven on Trial

Seven dedicated persons who were asked to coordinate Baha'i activities in Iran are now to go on trial for their lives. Being a Baha'i in Iran can mean death. This is a poem I wrote today for all the spiritual beings who reflect the true nature of Islam, Muhammad's words.

Dawnbreakers

Should I name them those teachers
Of the Dawn of the Gate
Rays of the Sun of God
It would be long verses to say

I will speak of their deeds
They choose not to attack but
To defend against attack, invincible
In desert shrine or village hostel

The Bab was the Gate mentioned in the Qur'an
A gate in a wall waiting for those who knock
Waiting for those called from the streets
To find their way in that dark night.

When they passed through, a new name was given
To each, these mirrors became Dawnbreakers
Callers to the new morning brightness
By their actions, by their sacrifice, worthy

The Bab called them to a greater teacher still
The Glory of God, Lord of Hosts, Comforter
The Imam Bab was the morning glow
Baha'u'llah was the Sun of that Dawn

Death was the price of a steely follower
Persia the eater of its children
Most persons burn their candles in a house
They made holes in the backs of saints

They watched with relish as the believers in God
Walked proudly along the avenue
Flames flickering in oily holes
A smile on the sufferers' faces

Dawnbreakers are still being born
In Persia they still eat the flesh
Of these spirits for breakfast and
Go to bed with true hate in the hearts

What happens to a nation
When it turns away from the Dawn
Countries ruled by a 'so called' Islam
A body which can not accept the best amoung them

A foot that fights the hand
A mouth that chews the lip
A heart that hates the lungs
A head that bashes its brain

A.G.W.