Love comes with a knife,
not some shy question,
and not with fears for its reputation.
I say these things disinterestedly.
Accept them in kind.
Love is a madman,
working his wild schemes,
tearing off his clothes,
drinking poison, and now quietly
choosing annihilation.
A tiny spider tries to wrap
an enormous wasp. Think of the spiderweb
woven across the cave where Muhammed slept.
There are love stories,
and there is obliteration into love.
You have been walking the ocean's edge,
holding up your robes to keep them dry.
You must dive deeper under,
a thousand times deeper.
3 comments:
So we must try harder, to dive deeper, bearing in mind the madman's wild schemes.
This Rumi read is wonderful. Thank you.
it's too perfect Ruth. I honestly thought the whole Rumi deal was made up, like bait to get me to go off on some self righteous tangent. There were only two copies of the book left (they had trouble keeping them in stock sometimes.
Thank YOU Ruth, there is not too many things better than finding out one of my paranoid thoughts was just me being paranoid.
my daughters and I were singing again as we drove home from Tsunami's (one of the gems of a bookstore)thank you for all you're encouragement
I guess this says to me that sometimes as we carefully look for grace in our lives, it gets tired of waiting and appears as a big cosmic baseball that hits us upside the head. Yes it hurts, but it gets our attention and we look in the direction it came from.
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