Saturday, April 2, 2022

Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī ~ I belong to the Soul of the Beloved



 My home has no address; my tracks leave no trace.
I am neither body nor soul--What can I say?
I belong to the Soul of the Beloved.
I have laid all "twos" aside:
this world and that world are one.
I search for One, I recognize One,
I see One clearly, and I call the name of the One.
That unnameable One, the breath of the breath,
is the first and last, the outside and the inside.
I identify no one except by "O That... O This!"
I am drunk on the cup of Love:
here-now and everywhere-all-time have vanished.
I can't handle any business except celebration.
If I spend an instant without you,
that instant makes my whole life seem worthless.
If I can win one moment with you,
I will crush both worlds under my feet
as I dance in joy forever.
My Beloved  O Shams of Tabrizi
I am living permanently intoxicated:
I have no more tales to tell
except ones about drunkness and revelry.



Tuesday, March 29, 2022

Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī ~ Soul houses


 Who is this king
that forms another king out of the ground,
who for the sake of two beggars
makes himself a beggar?

Who is this with his hand out
 Please, give just a little,
so I can give you a kingdom.

He heals. He enlivens.
He tells the water to boil
and the steam to fade into air.

He makes this dying world eternal.
His greatest alchemy
is how he undoes the binding
that keeps love from breathing deep.
He loosens the chest.

With no tool he fashions where we live.
Do not grieve for your rusty, iron heart.
He will polish it to a steel mirror.

And as you are being lowered into the ground,
closed away from friends, don’t cry.

He turns the ants and the snakes
into beautiful new companions.

Every second he changes cruelty
to loyal friendship.

Remember the proverb, Eat the grapes.
Do not keep talking about the garden.
Eat the grapes.

From a rough stone ledge
come a hundred marble fountains.

Out of unconditioned emptiness
comes this planet with all its qualities.

Lakewater over there.
Out of one huge NO
comes a chorus of yeses.

Rivers of light flow from human eyes,
and consider your ears, where language
alchemizes into amber.

He gives the soul a house,
then another and another.

He descends into dirt
and makes it majesty.

Be silent now.
Say fewer and fewer praise poems.
Let yourself become living poetry



Bridge to the Soul