Rumi

A friend of mine introduced me to the Sufi poet Rumi about four years ago and tonight I care to revisit him.  Rumi was a mystic poet who was born in Afghanistan in 1207.  His work is of course translated into English but how can someone who lived 800 years ago have captivation for me?  I suppose it's the big questions that he tries to answer about love, life and God.  He sets me thinking, confuses and excites me.  Mysticism is fascinating in an unobtainable way.  I would like to touch the candle flame.  Below are some of Rumi's works (He had around 60, 000 apparently).

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep.

and

One who does what the Friend wants done

will never need a friend.
There's a bankruptcy that's pure gain.
The moon stays bright when it
doesn't avoid the night.
A rose's rarest essence
lives in the thorn.


Some Kiss We Want


There is some kiss we want with
our whole lives, the touch of

spirit on the body. Seawater
begs the pearl to break its shell.

And the lily, how passionately
it needs some wild darling! At

night, I open the window and ask
the moon to come and press its

face against mine. Breathe into
me. Close the language- door and

open the love window. The moon
won't use the door, only the window.


Not Here


There's courage involved if you want
to become truth. There is a broken-

open place in a lover. Where are
those qualities of bravery and sharp

compassion in this group? What's the
use of old and frozen thought? I want

a howling hurt. This is not a treasury
where gold is stored; this is for copper.

We alchemists look for talent that
can heat up and change. Lukewarm

won't do. Halfhearted holding back,
well-enough getting by? Not here.