Sunday, February 7, 2010


Those who don't feel this Love

pulling them like a river,
those who don't drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don't want to change,

let them sleep.

This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
If you want to improve your mind that way,

sleep on.

I've given up on my brain.
I've torn the cloth to shreds
and thrown it away.

If you're not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words
around you,

and sleep.

Ode 314 - Rumi


"I am only the house of your beloved, not the beloved herself:

true love is for the treasure, not for the coffer that contains it."

The real beloved is that one who is unique,

who is your beginning and your end.

When you find that one, you'll no longer expect anything else:

that is both the manifest and the mystery.

That one is the lord of states of feeling, dependent on none;

month and year are slaves to that moon.

When he bids the "state," it does His bidding;

when that one wills, bodies become spirit.