Red with shyness, the red
that became all the rosegarden reds.
The red distance,
red of the stove boiling water,
red of the mountain turning bloodred,
a mountain holding rubies secretly inside.
Do I love more you
or your modesty?
Saturday, February 26, 2011
2 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
Great image, such hints in that one red window, and Rumi's wonderful and resonant words to match.
ReplyDeleteand my experience of red has always been its brashness, its heat, its out thereness. a nice inversion. steven
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