He it is who sends down the rain after they have despaired and spreads out His mercy. This verse alludes to the servant when the branches of his present moment have wilted, the limpid- ness of his love has turned opaque, the sun of his intimacy has been eclipsed, and the freshness of his covenant has become distant from the courtyards of proximity. At that point it may happen that the Real will gaze upon him with the gaze of mercy and send mercy's rain to his secret core. Then the fresh twigs will return and flowering roses will grow up in the places of witnessing intimacy. If Your forsaking me takes my hand, perhaps my days will return. Your covenant may curve back to life, for covenants may come again to life. Leaves sometimes go dry, then you see them green and moving. The Pir of the Tariqah said, “Since the last of this work is so similar to the first of this work, the road to the Friend is a circle. It comes from Him and goes back to Him. The first of this work is like springtime and blossoms. A man is happy, fresh, and comfortable. Then he sees the downs and ups. Disappointments and dispersions come forth, for in worship there are both togetherness and dispersion, and in the stations there are light and darkness. In the darkness of dispersion the servant sees so much concealment that he says, 'Oh, I tremble because I am worthless. What can I do other than burn until I rise up from this fallenness. What will happen then?'” Who sends down the rain after they have despaired. The clouds of munificence pour down the rain of finding, the billows of bounteousness scatter the pearls of welcome, the rose of union blos- soms in the garden of bestowal, and the last of the work goes back to the first. In joy and coquetry the servant says, “With reports I went forth seeking certainty, fear my resource, hope my compan- ion. The goal was hidden from me and I was striving in the religion. All at once the lightning of self-disclosure flashed from ambush. With thought they see like that, with the Friend like this.”
