Nighthawks, by Edward Hopper
I sit by the side of one who watches
like the stars at night without sleeping watch.
My friend sits on the roof at night.
I attend that watching.
During the day I help with the gardening.
He is both a tender of flowers
and flowering trees.
It is no shame to be in this friendship,
or if it is, it is.
I was on my way elsewhere
when I saw the nightwatchman
sitting on the sky's roof like a guard.
Like a king, like a gardener in his garden,
rainwet stones, like the body's hand-me-down.
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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