The stars had fallen.
The time had come
For people to search
For the Promised One.
He raised the call,
Did Mullá Husayn.
But people stayed still.
“You go. We’ll remain.”
So Mullá Husayn
Was the first one to leave
With his brother and nephew
Who also believed.
Before they went far,
Near that very first day,
They stopped forty more
Just to fast and to pray.
To fast and to pray,
And then to decide
Which road to explore,
Where to walk, where to ride.
From city to city,
From valleys to peaks,
They searched for the Promised One
More than twelve weeks.
‘Til finally they came,
All dusty and worn,
To the town of Shiráz
Where a new faith was born.
Yes, a new faith was born
In Shiráz on that day.
And Mullá Husayn,
Who’d come such a long way
With no map and no compass
With barely a clue
Had relied on his heart
To decide what to do.
His journey was ended.
The Báb was his goal.
And the Báb’s Revelation
Brought joy to his soul.
O how I do wish
That I’d been there that night,
Had heard the Báb chant,
Had been bathed in His light.
Instead, every year
As the months turn to May,
I imagine the quest
And the long, unknown way,
The faith and the knowledge⎯
The heart and the brain⎯
That guided the footsteps
Of Mullá Husayn.
Iambic Nana 