Monday, August 25, 2014

Rumi ♡ ‘Who’s at the door?’

     You said, ‘Who’s at the door?’
     I said, ‘Your slave.’

     You said, ‘What do you want?’
     ‘To see you and bow.’

     ‘How long will you wait?’
     ‘Until you call.’

     ‘How long will you cook?’
     ‘Till the Resurrection.’

     We talked through the door.
     I claimed a great love and that I had
     given up what the world gives, to be in that love.

     ‘You said, ‘Such claims require a witness.’
     I said, ‘This longing, these tears.’

     You said, ‘Discredited witnesses.’
     I said, ‘Surely not!’

     You said, ‘Who did you come with?’
     ‘The majestic imagination you gave me.’

     ‘Why did you come?’
     ‘The musk of your wine was in the air.’

     ‘What is your intention?’

     ‘What do you want from me?’

     Then you asked, ‘Where have you been most comfortable?’
     ‘In the palace.’

     ‘What did you see there?’
     ‘Amazing things.’

     ‘Then why is it so desolate?’
     ‘Because all that can be taken away in a second.’

     ‘Who can do that?’
     ‘This clear discernment.’

     ‘Where can you live safely then?’
     ‘In Surrender.’

     ‘What is this giving up?’
     ‘A peace that saves us.’

     ‘Is there no threat of disaster?’
     ‘Only what comes in your street, inside your love.’

     ‘How do you walk there?’
     ‘In perfection.’

     Now silence.
     If I told more of this conversation,
     those listening would leave themselves.

     There would be no door, no roof or window either!

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