There is a way between voice and presence where information flows.
In disciplined silence it opens.
With wandering talk it closes.
Let your love flow outward through the universe,To its height, its depth, its broad extent,A limitless love, without hatred or enmity.Then as you stand or walk,Sit or lie down,As long as you are awake,Strive for this with a one-pointed mind;Your life will bring heaven to earth.
It could happen any time, tornado,
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.
It could, you know. That's why we wake
and look out -- no guarantees
in this life.
But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
The first step in love is losing your head. After the petty ego you then give up your life and bear the calamity. With this behind you, proceed: polish the ego's rust from the mirror of your self
–Fakhr al-Din Iraqi
David and Sabrineh Fideler translations
Home again. But what was home?
The fish has vast ocean for home.
And man has timelessness and nowhere.
"I won't delude myself with the fallacy of home," he said to himself.
The four walls are a blanket I wrap around in,
in timelessness and nowhere, to go to sleep.
First find the immutable center where all movement takes birth. Just like a wheel turns round an axle, so must you be always at the axle in the center and not whirling at the periphery.
Running after saints is merely another game to play. Remember yourself instead and watch your daily life relentlessly. Be earnest, and you shall not fail to break the bonds of inattention and imagination.
Pardon all runners,
All speechless, alien winds,
All mad waters.
Pardon their impulses,
Their wild attitudes,
Their young flights, their reticence.
When a message has no clothes on
How can it be spoken.
Men, animals, trees, stars, they are all hieroglyphics.
When you see them you do not understand them.
You think they are really men, animals, trees, stars.
It is only years later that you understand.
How surely gravity's law, strong as an ocean current,
takes hold of even the strongest thing and pulls it toward
the heart of the world.
Each thing - each stone, blossom, child - is held in place.Only we, in our arrogance, push out beyond what we belong tofor some empty freedom.
If we surrendered to earth's intelligencewe could rise up rooted, like trees.Instead we entangle ourselves in knots of our own makingand struggle, lonely and confused.
So, like children, we begin again to learn from the things,because they are in God's heart; they have never left him.This is what the things can teach us:to fall, patiently to trust our heaviness.
Even a bird must do that before he can fly.
–Rainer Maria RilkeAnita Barrows/Joanna Macy translation
I was sad one day and went for a walk;I sat in a field.A rabbit noticed my condition and came near.It often does not take more than that to help at times -to just be close to creatures whoare so full of knowing,so full of lovethat they don't - chat,they just gaze with their marvelous understanding.
–St. John of the Cross
Love Poems from God
Daniel Ladinsky translation
What we speak
becomes the house
we live in.
Who will want
to sleep in your bed
if the roof leaks
right above it?
Fear is the
in the house,
I would like
to see you living
in better conditions.
There is only one reason
we have followed God
into this world:
to encourage laughter,
dance and love ....
God and I are rushing
from every corner of
needing to say
we are yours.
The sun never says
to the earth,
even after all this time
“you owe me”.
I once asked a bird
how is it that you
fly in this gravity
love lifts me.
I should not make
any promises right now
but I know if you pray
somewhere in this world
Daniel Ladinsky and
Robert Bly translations
I wish that you may find patience enough in yourself to endure, and simplicity enough to believe; that you may acquire more and more confidence in that which is difficult, and in your solitude among others.
And for the rest, let life happen to you.
Believe me: life is right, in any case.
–Rainer Maria Rilke
Thanks and blessings be
to the Sun and the Earth
for this bread and this wine,
this fruit, this meat, this salt,
thanks be and blessing to them
who prepare it, and who serve it;
thanks and blessings to them
who share it
(and also the absent and the dead).
Thanks and Blessing to them who bring it
(may they not want),
and to them who plant and tend it,
harvest and gather it
(may they not want);
thanks and blessing to them who work
and blessing to them who cannot;
may they not want - for their hunger
sours the wine and robs
the taste from the salt.
Thanks be for the sustenance and strength
for our dance and work of justice, and of peace.
–Rafael Jesus Gonzalez
In Praise of Fertile Land
‘What is grace?’ I asked God.
And He said,
‘All that happens.’
Then He added, when I looked perplexed,
‘Could not lovers
say that every moment in their Beloved’s arms
Existence is my arms,
though I well understand how one can turn
until the heart has
–St. John of the Cross
Love Poems from God
You cannot fight pain and pleasure on the level of consciousness.
To go beyond them you must go beyond consciousness, which is possible only when you look at consciousness as something that happens to you and not in you, as something external, alien, superimposed.Then, suddenly you are free of consciousness, really alone, with nothing to intrude.
And that is your true state.
Love with no object.
There is a way of loving not attached to what is loved.Observe how water is with the ground, always moving toward the ocean, though the ground tries to hold water’s foot and not let it go.This is how we are with wine and beautiful food, wealth and power, or just a dry piece of bread: we want and we get drunk with wanting, then the headache and bitterness afterward.Those prove that the attachment took hold and held you back. Now you proudly refuse help. “My love is pure. I have an intuitive union with God. I don’t need anyone to show me how to be free!”This is not the case. A love with no object is a true love.
All else, shadow without substance.
Have you seen someone fall in love with his own shadow? That’s what we’ve done. Leave partial loves and find one that’s whole.Where is someone who can do that? They’re so rare, those hearts that carry the blessing and lavish it over everything.Hold out your beggar’s robe and accept their generosity. Anything not coming from that will damage the cloth, like a sharp stone tearing your sincerity.Keep that intact, and use clarity; call it reason or discernment, you have within you a deciding force that knows what to receive, what to turn from.–RumiMathnawi III: 2248-80Coleman Barks version
Think of the phoenix coming up out of ashes,
but not flying off.
For a moment we have form.
We can't see.
How can we be conscious and you be conscious
at the same time and separate?
Copper when an alchemist works on it loses its copper qualities.
Seeds in Spring
begin to be trees, no longer seed. Brushwood
put in the fire changes.
The snow-world melts.
You step in my footprint and it's gone.
It's not that I've done anything to deserve
this attention from you.
Predestination and freewill: We can argue them,
but they're only ideas. What's real
is a presence, like Shams.
Coleman Barks version
being to timelessness as it's to time,love did no more begin than love will end;where nothing is to breathe to stroll to swimlove is the air the ocean and the land(do lovers suffer?all divinitiesproudly descending put on deathful flesh:are lovers glad?only their smallest joy'sa universe emerging from a wish)love is the voice under all silences,the hope which has no opposite in fear;the strength so strong mere force is feebleness:the truth more first than sun more last than star-do lovers love?why then to heaven with hell.Whatever sages say and fools,all's well
–E. E. Cummings
.'Exotic' - timothy allen:'A couple in the central highlands of Papua, New Guinea share an intimate moment during a courtship ritual.'Runner up, National Geographic Best Travel Pictures of 2011
I will wait here in the fields
to see how well the rain
brings on the grass.
In the labor of the fields
longer than a man's life
I am at home. Don't come with me.
You stay home too.
I will be standing in the woods
where the old trees
move only with the wind
and then with gravity.
In the stillness of the trees
I am at home. Don't come with me.
You stay home too.
When we get out of the glass bottles of our ego, and when we escape like squirrels turning in the cages of our personality and get into the forests again, we shall shiver with cold and fright but things will happen to us so that we don't know ourselves.
Cool, unlying life will rush in, and passion will make our bodies taut with power, we shall stamp our feet with new power and old things will fall down, we shall laugh, and institutions will curl up like burnt paper.
–D. H. Lawrence
And the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles, no matter how long, but only by a spiritual journey of one inch, very arduous and humbling and joyful, by which we arrive at the ground at our own feet, and learn to be at home.
It is a journey we can make only by the acceptance of mystery and of mystification – by yielding to the condition that what we have expected is not there.
It used to be
That when I would wake in the morning
I could with confidence say,
“What am ‘I’ going to
That was before the seed
Now Hafiz is certain:
There are two of us housed
In this body,
Doing the shopping together in the market and
Tickling each other
While fixing the evening’s food.
Now when I awake
All the internal instruments play the same music:
“God, what love-mischief can 'We’ do
For the world