Letter, July 04, 2015

Love has shaken my house, a bird flung time and again by his mother into the open sky. Love shook my being to its very core, and now I wander the streets like a river flooding from door to door, and sweeping, in its onrush, the world’s voices and images, burning them inside of me into the voice and image of you, the radiance of your countenance, the glow of your face. Love uprooted me and with a stern hand it threw me into the fire, laughing in cruel delight. Now I wake, a dewdrop on your cheek, a star in your hair, a freckle in your skin, a grain of incense burning in your censer, exhaling the fragrance of your name into the clear dawn sky. Now I wake, and wakefulness and sleep, willed and unwilled, darkness and light have merged into one, a total transparency of being before your surging light, a simple harmony unfolding me from the tapestry of your silence, the warmth of your breath. All from you proceeds and to you all things return, and I, with all things, grow and die, am birthed and rebirthed countless times from the core of you. Love vanquished me, with a burning foot crushed me to the point of annihilation; and here I am, at this moment, a poem ending itself in the ocean of your breath, a dewdrop dissolved in the rain of your absence.

Rumi – Granite and Wineglass

You are granite.
I am an empty wineglass.

You know what happens when we touch!
You laugh like the sun coming up laughs
at a star that disappears into it.

Love opens my chest, and thought
returns to its confines.

Patience and rational considerations leave.
Only passion stays, whimpering and feverish.

Some men fall down in the road like dregs thrown out.
Then, totally reckless, the next morning

they gallop out with new purposes. Love
is the reality, and poetry is the drum

that calls us to that. Don’t keep complaining
about loneliness! Let the fear-language of that theme

crack open and float away. Let the priest come down
from his tower, and not go back up!

~ Rumi