You strive for a month or so, somehow that determination vanishes, you’re still unaware, just putting up excuses of this and that, still unaware, that you stopped fighting for your goals, that you stopped looking at those dreams you stared at. What happened and why? Two days of rest and you fell right back into… Continue reading Undetectable excuses
Tag: Rumi
Where have you been searching?
https://youtu.be/rQBn90M9ixo Where have you been searching for me, my friend? I am right here.. I am not in a statue, I am not in a holy place; I am not in a silent shrine either, Neither am I in a temple, nor in a mosque.. Neither the Kaaba, nor the Kailash.. Where have you been… Continue reading Where have you been searching?
Why this inconsistency?
Why are we this inconsistent? Our minds, our hearts, our focus, even our emotions, waver again and again.. Rumi asks, "Shams, why this inconsistency? That we live within love and yet we run away?" For the last few days, my emotions have been so erratic that yesterday when i read these lines, it made me… Continue reading Why this inconsistency?
Be completely clear-hearted
Let go of your worriesand be completely clear-hearted,like the face of a mirrorthat contains no images..If you want a clear mirror,behold yourselfand see the shameless truth,which the mirror reflects.If metal can be polishedto a mirror-like finish,what polishing might the mirrorof the heart require?Between the mirror and the heartis this single difference:the heart conceals secrets,while the… Continue reading Be completely clear-hearted
Whoever brought me here – Rumi poem
All day i think about it, then at night i say it.. Where did i come from, and what am i supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere, i'm sure of that, and i intend to end up there. This drunkenness began in some other tavern. When i… Continue reading Whoever brought me here – Rumi poem
Lo, I am with you always – Rumi poems
Lo, I am with you always, you promised that, and when I realized that it was true, my soul flared up. Any unhappiness comes from forgetting. Remember, and be back close with the friend.. ******* Poem, song, and story, the stream sweeps by, moving along what was never mine anyway. What I have done through… Continue reading Lo, I am with you always – Rumi poems
Love said to me (Rumi)
I worship the moon.Tell me of the soft glow of a candle lightand the sweetness of my moon.Don’t talk about sorrow,tell me of that treasure,hidden if it is to you,then just remain silent.Last night I lost my grip on realityand welcomed insanity.Love saw me and said,I showed up.Wipe your tearsand be silent.I said, O Love… Continue reading Love said to me (Rumi)
Your first eyes
A lover has four streams inside,of water, wine, honey and milk.Find those in yourself and pay no attentionwhat so-and-so says about such-and-such.The rose does not careif someone calls it a thorn, or a jasmine.Ordinary eyes categorize human beings.That one is Zoroastrian. This one, Muslim.Walk instead with the other vision given you, your first eyes.Do not… Continue reading Your first eyes
On children running through
I used to be shy.You made me sing. I used to refuse things at table.Now I shout for more wine.In somber dignity,I used to sit on my mat and pray.Now children run throughand make faces at me.~ Rumi
All my youth returns – a Rumi poem
You are the comfort of my soul in the season of sorrow. You are the wealth of my spirit in the heartbreak of loss. The unimaginable, The unknowable— That is what you give my soul when it moves in your direction. By your grace… Continue reading All my youth returns – a Rumi poem
Hidden music – Poem
My heart, sit only with thosewho know and understand you. Sit only under a treethat is full of blossoms. In the bazaar of herbs and potionsdon't wander aimlesslyfind the shop with a potion that is sweet.If you don't have a measurepeople will rob you in no time.You will take counterfeit coinsthinking they are real. Don't… Continue reading Hidden music – Poem
Wisdom – Quote
"Wisdom is like the rain.. It's supply is unlimited, but it comes down according to what the occasion requires - in winter and spring, in summer and autumn, always in due measure, more or less, but the source of that rain is the oceans itself, which has no limits.." ~Rumi.
In the waves and underneath
Don’t be absorbed with the waterwheel’s motion. Turn your head and gaze at the river. You say, "But I'm looking there already."There are several signs in eyes that see all the way to the ocean. Bewilderment is one. Those who study foam and flotsam near the edge have purposes, and they’ll explain them at length! Those who look out to sea become the… Continue reading In the waves and underneath
Cup and Ocean
These forms we seem to be are cups floating in an ocean of living consciousness.They fill and sink without leaving an arc of bubbles or any good-bye spray. What we 'are' is that ocean, too near to see, though we swim in it and drink it in. Don’t be a cup with a dry rim, or someone who… Continue reading Cup and Ocean
Entrance door..
"How lover and beloved touchis familiar and courteous,but there is a strange impulsein thatto create a formthat will dissolve all other shapes..Remember, the entrance door tothe sanctuary is inside you..We watch a sunlight dust dance,and we try to be that lively,but nobody knows what musicthose particles hear..Each of us has a secret companionmusician to dance… Continue reading Entrance door..
My worst habit… (Rumi’s poem)
Translation from the book The Essential Rumi by Coleman Barks. My worst habit is I get so tired of winter I become a torture to those I'm with. If you're not here, nothing grows. I lack clarity. My words tangle and knot up. How to cure bad water? Send it back to… Continue reading My worst habit… (Rumi’s poem)
My soul is from elsewhere – Rumi poem
All day I think about it, then at night I say it.. Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?I have no idea.. My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,And I intend to end up there.. This drunkenness began in some other… Continue reading My soul is from elsewhere – Rumi poem