Do not leave me for I am your only Friend, I am the spring of life.
Even if you leave in anger for thousands of years
You will come back to me for I am your goal and your end.
Didn’t I tell you not to be seduced by this colorful world for I am the Ultimate Painter.
Didn’t I tell you, you are a fish do not go to dry land for I am the deep Sea.
Didn’t I tell you, not to fall in the net like birds for I am your wings and the power of light.
Didn’t I tell you not to let them change your mind and turn you to ice for I am your fire and warmth.
Didn’t I tell you they will corrupt you and make you forget that I am the Spring of all virtues.
Didn’t I tell you not to question my actions for everything falls into order, I am the Creator.
Didn’t I tell you your heart can guide you home because it knows that I am your Master.
I may be clapping my hands, but I don’t belong to a crowd of clappers.
Neither this nor that, I’m not part of a group that loves flute music
or one that loves gambling or drinking wine.
Those who live in , descended from Adam, made of earth and water,
I’m not part of that.
Don’t listen to what I say,
as though these words came from an inside and went to an outside.
Your faces are very beautiful, but they are wooden cages.
You had better run from me.
My words are fire.
I have nothing to do with being famous, or making grand judgments, or feeling
full of shame. I borrow nothing.
I don’t want anything from anybody.
I flow through human beings.
Love is my only companion.~ Rumi♥
L O V E D O G S One night a man was crying Allah! Allah! His lips grew sweet with praising, until a cynic said, “So! I have heard you calling out, but have you ever gotten any response?” The man had no answer to that. He quit praying and fell into a confused sleep. He dreamed he saw Khidr, the guide of souls, in a thick, green foliage. “Why did you stop praising?” “Because I’ve never heard anything back.” “This longing you express is the return message.” The grief you cry out from draws you toward union. Your pure sadness that wants help is the secret cup. Listen to the moan of a dog for its master. That whining is the connection. There are love dogs no one knows the names of. Give your life to be one of them.
T H E M U S I C
For sixty years I have been forgetful,
every moment, but not for a second
has this flowing toward me slowed or stopped.
I deserve nothing. Today I recognize
that I am the guest the mystics talk about.
I play this living music for my host.
Everything today is for the host.
draws you towards union.
Your pure sadness
that wants help
is the secret cup.
Listen to the moan of a dog
for its master.
That whining is the connection.
There are love dogs
no one knows the names of.
Give your life to be one of them.
There is only so long you can ignore a throbbing, bleeding vein. You’ve got to stop the flow. Unable to find an obvious cure, you begin to see the cure within the pain.
How? Well that’s absolutely relative. For me, the pain shows me how everyone in the world has their own aches and pains. Sorrows and griefs. Sources of absolute misery. And we all have to brave through it. There is no escaping it. No running away. Sometimes, you’ve just got to stand up and face the music.
Sometimes, your grief may create a connection so unique, so strong, you’d be totally caught of guard. And when it does, it never leaves you the same way as it found you.
Listen to the song of the reed,
How it wails with the pain of separation:
“Ever since I was taken from my reed bed
My woeful song has caused men and women to weep.
I seek out those whose hearts are torn by separation
For only they understand the pain of this longing.
Whoever is taken away from his homeland
Yearns for the day he will return.
In every gathering, among those who are happy or sad,
I cry with the same lament.
Everyone hears according to his own understanding,
None has searched for the secrets within me.
My secret is found in my lament
But an eye or ear without light cannot know it..”
The sound of the reed comes from fire, not wind.
What use is one’s life without this fire?
It is the fire of love that brings music to the reed.
It is the ferment of love that gives taste to the wine.
The song of the reed soothes the pain of lost love.
Its melody sweeps the veils from the heart.
Can there be a poison so bitter or a sugar so sweet; as the song of the reed?
To hear the song of the reed;everything you have ever known must be left behind