Lovers, it is time
for the taste of fire.
Let sadness and your fears of death
sit in the corner and sulk.
The sky itself reels with love.
There is one being inside
all of us, one peace.
Poet, let every word tremble its wind bell.
Saddle the horse with great anticipation.
Flute notes are calling us into friendship.
Begin again. Play the melody
all the way through this time.
Sun-presence floods over.
Quietness is an empty cup.
Accept that you
must hide your secret.
Rumi
Translation: Coleman Barks
Photo: Peter Bowers