Enticingly diaphanous, the aperture to mystery,
The veil has served to illustrate a myriad application.
Wedding veils endure, but have lost climactic pageantry.
These days so many bare their gifts before the celebration.
Except, of course, for tiny brides just barely out of infancy.
The veils conceal their wide-eyed bewilderment and fear,
The final barricade between their innocence and violation,
Lace replaced thereafter by a shroud to hide their tears,
To keep salacious eyes from beholding such temptation.

Veils are not exclusive to custom or to gender.
They intervene between every man and his Beloved,
Every vassal and his King, the self unable to surrender.
Even love becomes a barrier, keeping him apart.
Majnún was finally forced to leap the wall of his desires,
Shattering the imaginings of a covetous, craving heart.
The veil of false conviction based on bias and illusion,
Though sheer and undetectable had left him in the dark,
Enveloped in a tale of misadventure and confusion.

The veils of ignorance are clouds blocking out the Sun.
Souls draped in imitation, superstition, heedlessness,
Can never hope to attain the presence of the Peerless One.
Ironically the veils of learning prove the greater detriment,
Woven with the thread of names, the gossamer of outward glory.
Often they disguise self-approval tinged with arrogance.
The powerful and rich, self-righteous with complacent mien,
Become themselves the veiling that casts the world in darkness,
Depriving multitudes of the enabling light of equity.

Yet, taking leave of self and seeking that which He ordained,
Venturing through the valleys, each veil is torn asunder.
Waywardness is vanquished, perfect knowledge is attained,
Plurality will disappear, all reason turned to wonder.
The beauteous, mystic Bride, ere concealed beneath the veil,
Will render, radiant as the day, immeasurable delight.
Henceforth the seeker’s yearning and his anguish turn to joy,
The crimson rose adorns the valley, nightingales dispel the night,
True poverty abiding, a state which nothing can destroy.

Spotless souls that burn away the veils of all degrees,
Who hasten to the station of witness and attainment,
Come upon what’s known to be the veil of mystery,
Which covers ancient splendor, full access is forbidden.
No soul has ever marched across the threshold of His Sovereignty,
An endless sea which none can fathom, manifest yet hidden.
No first or last, no seen, unseen, no sign of limitation.
‘From every eye He’s hidden well, and yet in every eye doth dwell.’3
Here the soul resides in the shadow of His Essence, in boundless exultation.

He’s chosen for Himself the adornment of a thousand veils,
Protecting us from fatal bliss and dread astonishment.
Yet, the Dayspring of His Signs He attired with transparency,
A token of His grace, that truths be whispered heart to heart.
This faint reflection of His beauty unleashed vast calamity,
Thus impregnable remains the sheath that guards His sovereign might.
The merciful Concealer has ordained that in the realm of being
All men be free to choose, as such, the intervening veil of light
Cannot as yet be lifted, His final victory unforeseen.