My heart was split, and a flower appeared; and grace sprang up; and it bore fruit for my God.
You split me, tore my heart open, filled me with love.
You poured your spirit into me; I knew you as I know myself.
Speaking waters touched from your fountain, the source of life,
I swallowed them and was drunk with the water that never dies.
And my drunkenness was insight, intimacy with your spirit.
And you have made all things new; you have showed me all things shining,
You have granted me perfect ease; I have become like Paradise, a garden whose fruit is joy; and you are the sun upon me.
My eyes are radiant with your spirit; my nostrils fill with your fragrance.
My ears delight in your music, and my face is covered with your dew.
Blessed are the men and women who are planted on your earth, in your garden, who grow as your trees and flowers grow, who transform their darkness to light.
Their roots plunge into darkness; their faces turn toward the light.
All those who love you are beautiful; they overflow with your presence so that they can do nothing but good,
There is infinite space in your garden; all men, all women are welcome there; all they need do is enter.

Odes of Solomon
Translation Stephen Mitchell

The Odes of Solomon is a collection of 42 odes attributed to Solomon and dated the first three centuries AD. Unlike the Psalms of Solomon, the Odes are much less Jewish and more Christian in appearance. Many have doubted the orthodoxy of the Odes, suggesting that originated from a heretical or gnostic group.

 

“My heart split, and a flower appeared.”
When I first read those words, I felt a catch in my throat. How beautiful! How complete a description of the heart that has opened to … what? God, the universe, Higher Consciousness, the Other, the One. And this heart was not opened gently or delicately or slowly but was split like an axe splits wood, like lightning splits the darkness, like shock stops all thought and brings you to your knees.

“You have made all things new; you have showed me all things shining…”
If you ever had a close encounter with death, or recovered from a serious illness, there is a period of time when you see all things as if for the first time. In this state of no-mind, no-thought, Reality shines forth in all its splendor. Everything is seen as perfect just as it is; without judgment there is perfection in all things. The word ‘enlightenment’ may not be merely metaphorical but descriptive for many mystics report bright light as part of their experience. St. Paul on his journey to Damascus was blinded by the light.

“Blessed are the men and women who are planted on your earth, in your garden, who grow as your trees and flowers grow, who transform their darkness to light.”
I like that we are compared to trees and flowers; it brings a humility into our creation and sets us on par with the other members of this earthly family. And like the plants whose leaves transform light into food, we transform the darkness of our minds into the light of consciousness.

This Thanksgiving holiday is the time to remember that most precious gift, life itself – be it short or long, easy or challenging. What can we do but offer praise and gratitude for the opportunity to be born as a human.