Saturday, September 18, 2010

Too Happy, You Could Not Sleep Last Night


I am the slave who frees the master.
I teach the teacher.

I am essence born freshly every day.
I built the ancient civilizations.

I brush medicine on fading eyesight.
I relight intelligence.

In grief, I am pitchblack darkness.
On a feast day, the children's excitement.

I am the ground who fills the sky's brain
with fiery lightning-love, air, wind.

You could not sleep last night,
too happy with how I was remembering you.
No one is to blame that sometimes
I am a scandal, or obviously unfair.

The surface is rusting over.
I had better go into silence.

I am breathing too close
to this mirror's face.

1 comment:

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