You are song, a wished-for song.
Go through the ear to the center,
where the sky is, where wind,
where silent knowing.
Put seeds and cover them.
Blades will sprout
where you do your work.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
3 comments:
At the request of a Rumi Reader, I have enabled comments, because I agree that someone, sometime might want to write about the power of Rumi's words. So many times they have met me in ways I just have to share, and so I want you to have that opportunity here. There is no expectation for comments, but please do write something if you feel the urge. ~ Ruth
Where we put our energies miracles happen. I say quite often to my hubby that when we listen to each other miracles happen. Now he is saying it to me. A miracle.
ReplyDeleteCan someone please elaborate this poem, its meaning and what does it infer?
ReplyDeleteSaad, my response is not an "answer" but what I get from this is something like the hen that lays one egg a day (or so), but most of the day is spent grazing in the farmyard, feeding and filling up. The work is invisible, in the spirit, but the result is the evidence, like the beautiful, perfect egg (or the blades that sprout from the seed hidden in the soil).
ReplyDelete