Archive for the ‘Rumi’ Category

open the door

Tuesday, August 11th, 2009

Open The Door

Half of my body is fighting
with the other half.
Don’t just stand there.
Come, do something, reconcile them.

A raven and a falcon
put in the same cage
inflict so much suffering on each other.

Open the cage so they can come back to life.
The fight ends when you open the door.

Reason and being are locked inside our chest.
They keep fighting each other.
Both are in bad shape
and feeling woozy from separation.

If you want them to fight,
close the door.
If you don’t,
then be a peacemaker.

Rumi

a life without art

Monday, August 10th, 2009

A Life Without Art

A life without the love of art
is an empty, wasted life.
Nothing else matters.
Other words are nonsense on this path.

Rumi


Editor’s comment:  Harsh… but fair!


just do it

Saturday, August 8th, 2009

Just Do It

Who can find a trace of you?
There isn’t even a bit of dust from your track.
Who could find your home?
You have no home.

How can I praise you?
What can I say about you?
Foam is the only form in the sea of meaning.

A great, unseen town
lies just behind that curtain.
Our world is nothing compared to that.

Don’t lower yourself.
Don’t knock on every door.
You yourself are what you are looking for.

O heart, raise your tent up to the sky.
Don’t say, “I can’t.”
Sure you can. Just do it.

Rumi


Editors note: think the title could catch on, might try selling some trainers with it.


don’t you recall?

Saturday, August 8th, 2009

Don’t You Recall?

Do you know where you came from?
You came from God’s harem, that’s where.
Yes, from God, who is without fault or flaw.

Try to remember.
Don’t you recall those divine, beautiful lips?

In truth, you’ve forgotten them,
and that’s why you’re so confused
and your head is spinning.

You’ve been selling your soul for a handful of dirt.
What a lousy deal!

Return that dirt. Know your value.
* You aren’t a slave. You’re the master.
You’re the sultan.

Beautiful faces came down secretly from the sky,
just for you.

Rumi


Editor’s comment: * this 13th century poet got it, how long before the rest of us catch up to this realization? We’ll stop being slaves, and be truly free when we start walking the walk.


the journey starts here

Saturday, August 8th, 2009

The Journey Starts Here

Don’t go off sightseeing.
The real journey is right here.
The great excursion starts
from exactly where you are.
You are the world.
You have everything you need.
You are the secret.
You are the wide opened.

Don’t look for the remedy for your troubles
outside yourself.
You are the medicine.
You are the cure for your own sorrow.

Rumi


God’s Ocean

Saturday, August 8th, 2009

God’s Ocean

The soul of the universe is a pure and clean ocean.
Forms and shapes are the foams on that sea.
Plunge into this pure, clean ocean.
Don’t just play with the foams.

The foams on the sea’s surface never stand still.
Waves constantly move them about.
When they dry up,
they’re no longer even part of the sea.

The foam either turns into water
or becomes part of the sand,
because two colours cannot fit
into God’s one ocean.

The wave comes from the sea,
then watches and bows down to itself.
“O, Ocean, essence of my existence,” wave says,
“How did you turn into so many waves?”

All souls are one.
All existence is but the reflection of the Sultan.

Rumi


choose love

Saturday, August 8th, 2009

Choose Love

Because of the beloved
my heart is happy,
my soul illuminated.

From the beloved’s greenery
hundreds of blessed rivers
are flowing to the rose gardens.

In order to enter into your rose garden,
the soul makes peace with the thorns.

Choose love. Choose love.
Without this beautiful love,
life is nothing but a burden.

Rumi


divine road

Saturday, August 8th, 2009

Divine Road

A shepherd comes every night
from the land of absence,
frees souls from the bodies
and scatters them like camels.

He guides them secretly
back to the land of absence
and places them lovingly
in the pasture of his kindness.

But he covers their eyes
and doesn’t let them see the road,
for this is a divine road,
not the road of self and senses.

Rumi