(Unheard announcement from the Hafiz Flight Guide, as performed in the stage show:
"Welcome to the Last Flight To Heaven. If you go as Christ to the sky clothed in simple purity then your light shall rise and become as a hundred rays connect to the sun. Safety procedures. There are no safety procedures. God protect your mark of beauty from the Evil Eye’s effect. By that beauty the moon and sun are held in check. We are now about to take off for Manonash, which is the annihilation of the self, so please unfasten your seatbelts and hold on to your partner as we go through the six degrees of separation towards the seven degrees of love. Though the deluge shall arrive and threaten everything alive, Hafiz is there to be your guide and see you through the typhoon’s eye. Despair not.")...

"The Last Flight To Heaven!"

"Your boarding pass, Sir."

"I'm the pilot!"

"Who?"

"Yes!"

"Final call for the Last Flight to heaven!"

"O Who Ru! What's a bright girl like you doing being a Persian Air Stewardess?"

"Don't be fooled by appearances- "

"Thunder and lightning is blasting Creation, a steam roller hitting
The deck but my Eye of the storm is your safe haven"

"I was NASA's top astronaut but the boys upstairs wouldn't let women fly moon missions. We might make love with Venus instead of war on Mars.

"Last call for the Last Flight to heaven!"

"Heavenly vessels can ferry the stars but my true lovers
Mend and make do, wing and pray this old bus of a hurricane."

"What are you doing here, Dr?"

"Oh I'm just getting away from myself to find it All...."


So I death-plunge to a black hole, in a wild spin, out of space,
With my mind jazd, but my heart stays on its flight path to your Face.

Crossing dream land’s timeless rainbow which my Earth-eyes sweep for gold:
Wept effulgence of the star-cheeked, laughing gas tears, of your Face.

I’m absorbing unabsorbed-in astral heaven’s purple haze,
Passing fairs’ kaleidoscopic of my shadows on your Face.

I pass ghost-ships on my wild wings lifting dream-high, stellar-fast,
Over planets tipped at light-speed down the bright planes of your Face...

O Kaleidoscope in Love-fall, O bright tunnel’s Lighted end,
Trust this sixth sense hyper-realing round the five Oned by that Face.

© Gareth Calway 2017 published by Sheriar (the ghazal as 'Starry Eyed) in garethcalway.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/6-degrees-of-separation-7-degrees-of.htm