Xmas.poem.2011.the puriwat of rajpur


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Christmas Poem, 2011 The Purwat of Rajpur

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Xmas.poem.2011.the puriwat of rajpur

  1. 1. The Purwat1 of Rajpur2 By John R. Wible. Begun in 1978,4 completed in September-October, 20115 3 John’s 31st Annual Christmas Poem In Rajpur, the Purwat with majesty did sit, Exalted high upon the Ruby throne, Whose dais filled the great Hall there, at least the most of it, With each and every kind of precious stone. Beside the Purwat there stood the Khybear6 to left, And to the right, the Ivory Dumar,7 Who opened mighty floodgates wide, From whence proceeded hence, The River of the Purwat’s great pow’r. The pow’r to make and make again, At His majestic call, And echo same from One to One, Gush forth like liquid Ruby from the Hall.1 Purwat (pronounced Poor-a-what), is a combination word of my making. The word was given to me in the vision.It is a combination of two ancient words from two ancient languages, Hindi and Khmer. In the Rig Veda, theancient Hindu writings, “pur” is referred to more than 30 times and means city, castle or fortress. “Wat” is fromthe ancient Khmer language of Cambodia and means “temple.” In ancient times before Christ, in fact, beforerecorded history, peoples of Indian descent inhabited modern Cambodia such that it was known by British andFrench scholars as “Farther India.” “Purwat” then, is the title that was given to me for Jehovah God, the triune“Temple City” by extension, and the City that is a holy temple.2 Rajpur is a small town in Uttarakhan State in Northern India, where I saw the vision. It also is an ancient princelystate on the banks of the River Mahisagar in Western India. It is perhaps in this reference that I first heard thename some 33 years ago. The term, “Raj” means might or power in Hindi, thus Rajpur would mean the City ofPower.3 John retired from the Alabama Department of Public Health in June of this year and serves at the call of the Lord.4 I began this poem in 1978 shortly after Amy was born. I was never able to get past the first verse and I wonderedwhy. It is now clear that God began a vision for me in 1978 but did not complete the vision for some 33 years. Is ita coincidence that 33 years is the span of Jesus’ life on Earth? I cannot say nor do I compare myself to Him. Imerely point out the significance. Annotations are posted on Face Book.5 This poem is the verbalization of a vision I received in Northern India during a prayer session in a Tibetan refugeevillage. Upon reflection, it is basically the same vision that the prophet, Isaiah saw and recorded in Isaiah 6, q.v. In ththe vision, I saw the Triune God in Heaven dressed in 17 Century Indian garb. God the Father was seated on ahuge Ruby coloured pillow in a full lotus position. To His right were God the Son (Khybear) and God the Holy Spirit(Dumar). From the throne emanated a ruby coloured river that descended from Heaven to the room in which Istood praying over a man who had abscesses on his back. The ruby flow covered the floor and came to my feet.Then it came through my body and exited out my hand which was on the sick man. The flow was God’s healingpower. It was a double gift. A gift of healing to the man and a gift of God’s permitting me to be the instrumentalityof that healing.6 Khybear (pronounced Khyber,) is a made up word using the Khyber region of India to the Northwest of Rajpurand Bear for “Chi Bear,” Amy’s first stuffed animal.7 Dumar (Dumar Kachar in Madhya Pradesh, to the Southeast of Rajpur,) is the second place name used. Dumarwas Amy’s second animal. Dumar is also one of the “scheduled casts” of Madhya Pradesh.1|Page
  2. 2. The pow’r to make and make again, How can this thing be so? How can such might be latent lie, Within the Ruby flow? And who is touched by the liquid flame, To be changed to flesh from stone? “Oh, is it I,” one dares to ask, “Who can such glory own?” The question shocks the spirit man, And to the soul gives pause, “Nay, who am I to ask of such, And based upon what cause?” At once, the Khybear dains to speak, Give voice His trifurcated tongue, The sound of such I cannot bear, Nor with the Three be among. And even though the Khybear, He, His face and feet I hear, Felled on my face I find myself, A ‘quivering with fear. Gives back the shout, the Dumar does, And three times louder than before, Pow’r of pow’r and might of might, Echoes from wall to crown to floor. “It is done,” the speaker speaks. “The River’s flow ne’er stopped,” And washed me o’er from face to toe, Until my body sopped. “Woe is me, I am undone, A man of hollow lip, That ope’ of aweful ocean tide, Until the Ruby sip.” The taste of curried gall, it is, More bitter than be borne, Hollowed by the years of me, Until my teeth they’ve torn.2|Page
  3. 3. O’er once and twice and thrice again, The taste each crevice fills, And all the vacuum vanishes, “til soon my soul it thrills. “Oh, strange and unfamiliar taste, This chutney of the soul, Can You my weakness wash away? And make, remake me whole?” “It can, It can,” the Purwat, Proclaimed, now drink it all. Oh, take it in, its savor seek, Salvation mixed with gall.” And then I realized my lips, Well full with new-found floods, Which sprang from them each time I spoke? The Royal Ruby Blood. “Now, make and make and make again,” I hear the Khybear bleat, “And give to all, do all I say.” And then He took His seat. But yet the Dumar grew in form, E’en larger than before. And with each iteration’s growth, Less visible each pore. And in a wild and winsome way, I wot that He the Ruby had become, That filled my lips; He bade me speak, ‘til the Purwat be known. The sky rolled in and covered up, The vision I had seen, The Purwat, upon His throne The Khybear had entered in. And became as e’er before, With Purwat be one The Dumar, too, in some strange way, The threefold person now done.3|Page
  4. 4. And so it was, and so shalt be, As from the time before. The Purwat exalted high, Above this human floor. And I am filled to overflow, On Ruby-hu-ed sips, And nevermore will speak to man, With hollow, haughty lips. ******** May you see the vision this Christmas and new year. John R. Wible, 2011. See other Christmas poems and writings on my Face Book page; or blog: http://www.johnwible.blogspot.com/ or my Slideshare page: https://www.slideshare.net/login?from_logout=1 Send comments of suggestions to jwible@knology.net4|Page