No one saw Him leave that night
With little food or drink and wishing no return
To leave behind this empty world
A journey to the quiet of the realms of light
Day after day His soul communed
Without the noise the clamour of betraying hearts
Traveling to Sar-Galú, the humble life
Only dervish in the eyes of the learned
Chorus
“Though weariness lay Me low and hunger consume Me
And the bare rock be My bed My fellows the beasts of the field
I will not complain,...”*
Two years would pass without His grace
To take away the tension and remove the doubt
Then came the bidding to return
To face a life the suffering only messengers are made to bear
Chorus
*(Bahá'u'lláh, Summons of the Lord of Hosts, p. 133)