There is a way
of breathing
that's a shame
and a suffocation
and there's another
way of expiring,
a love breath,
That lets you
open infinitely.
This human shape
is a ghost made
of distraction and pain,
Sometimes pure light,
sometimes cruel,
trying wildly to open,
this image tightly
held within itself.
-Rumi
1 comment:
Hi Holly So good to see you today. I was somehow forgetting that I had already gone to your website and enjoyed it; though I must say I particularly like where you're going now. Rumi! This summer I was rendered almost senseless--even more than usual--by Coleman Barks' translations. I heard the CBC recording of him and Mary Hynes and had to get every book I possibly could find or order at the library............ Some Kiss We Want, that's a wonderful poem. I shall look into other translations, since that's clearly what you're using.
I weep as I make the honey
Wearing the shirt of a bee
I sent that out to many many people when I came across it, early this summer. As though I'd hit the motherlode of mysticism. Which is rather how I do think of Rumi.
I'll send you one little painting I finished in Miquelon, if I find an email address for you.
It was so interesting to meet you again. Maureen
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