taste of morning

Time's knife slides from the sheath,

as fish from where it swims.

Being closer and closer is the desire 

of the body. Don't wish for union!

There's a closeness beyond that. Why 

would God want a second God?  Fall in 

love in such a way that it frees you 

from any connecting. Love is the soul's 

light, the taste of morning, no me, no

we, no claim of being. These words 

are the smoke the fire gives off as it

absolves its defects, as eyes in silence,

tears, face. Love cannot be said.

Rumi

Translation: Coleman Barks

One being inside all

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

Body Intelligence

There are guides
who can show you the way.
Use them.

But they will not satisfy your longing.
Keep wanting the connection with presence
with all your pulsing energy.

The throbbing vein
will take you further
than any thinking.

Muhammed said, Do not theorize
about essence.  All speculations
are just more layers of covering.
Human beings love coverings.

They think the designs on the curtains
are what is being concealed.

Observe the wonders as they occur around you.
Do not claim them.  Feel the artistry
moving through, and be silent.





Rumi
Photo:  Peter Bowers

dancing particles

Daylight, full of small dancing particles
and the one great turning, our souls
are dancing with you, without feet, they dance.
Can you see them when I whisper in your ear?





Rumi
Photo:  Peter Bowers

Listening

What is the deep listening?  Sama is

a greeting from the secret ones inside

the heart, a letter.  The branches of 

your intelligence grow new leaves in

the wind of this listening.  The body

reaches a peace.  Rooster sound comes,

reminding you of your love for dawn.

The reed flute and singer's lips:  

the knack of how spirit breathes into

us becomes as simple and ordinary as 

eating and drinking.  The dead rise with

the pleasure of listening.  If someone 

can't hear a trumpet melody, sprinkle

dirt on his head and declare him dead.  

Listen and feel the beauty of your

separation, the unsayable absence.  

There's a moon inside every human being.

Learn to be companions with it.  Give

more of your life to this listening.  As 

brightness is to time, so you are to

the one who talks to the deep ear in 

your chest.  I should sell my tongue

and buy a thousand ears when that

one steps near and begins to speak.

Rumi

Translated by Coleman Barks

Photo:  Peter Bowers

beauty

Be helpless, dumbfounded,

Unable to say yes or no.

Then a stretcher will come from grace

to gather us up.

We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty.

If we say we can, we're lying.

If we say No, we don't see it,

That No will behead us

And shut tight our window onto spirit.

So let us rather not be sure of anything,

Beside ourselves, and only that, so

Miraculous beings come running to help.

Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,

We shall be saying finally,

With tremendous eloquence, Lead us.

When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,

We shall be a mighty kindness.

Rumi

Translated by Coleman Barks

Photo:  Peter Bowers

a living friend

What does pre-eternity mean to you?  What is your 

origin? 

The source?  What is spirit?

Spend your life finding out your own state.

Those other mysteries will come clear.

God is depth.  And you, you fool, you are also deep.

The same depth is in you.

Don't worry about terminology, pre-existence, 

the original face, spirit, soul.

Search within yourself.  The great mystery is there.

Everyone talks about gnosticism and dervishes.

Those are just words.

I want someone with a pulse, a living friend, 

who says directly to me, You are a part.  I am the whole.

Come into this awareness.  Get to know me.  

Excerpts from the Sayings of Shams Tabriz

Soul Fury 

Rumi and Shams Tabriz on Friendship

Coleman Barks 

Photo:  Peter Bowers

what we offer up

I have filled all the paper made in Egypt,

and all that made in Baghdad too,

with this longing-talk poetry.

It must  be that I must have forgotten

how an hour of actual friendship,

being in your presence for just that long,

is worth a world of verbal imaginations.

Dear one, let this living

be what we offer up.

Rumi

Soul Fury

Translation:  Coleman Barks