Sunday, September 19, 2010


We have come again to that knee of seacoast
no ocean can reach.

Tie together all human intellects.
They will not stretch to here.

The sky bears its neck so beautifully,
but gets no kiss. Only a taste.

This is the food that everyone wants,
wandering in the wilderness.
Please give us your manna and quail.

We are here again with the beloved. This air,
a shout. These meadowsounds, an astonishing myth.

We have come into the presence of the one
who was never apart from us. When someone chews
sugarcane, he is wanting this sweetness.

Inside this globe the soul roars like thunder.
And now silence, my strict tutor.

I will not try to talk about Shams.
Language cannot touch that presence.

1 comment:

Elisabeth said...

I love the bodily references to nature, here, Ruth.