“Window to the Heart” mandala by blue_sea_art.
In the depths of winter, I think about Spring.
There is a faint stirring underfoot.
I’ve been practicing “no mind.” This is a secret all you poets already know. To move beyond attentiveness, listening — to a state of attunement.
Can you hear the song, the airy silence?
Absorb the ground and sky, its fragrance.
Honor what unfolds from within, dissolve in your bliss.
WHERE EVERYTHING IS MUSIC
by Jelaluddin Rumi
Don’t worry about saving these songs!
And if one of our instruments breaks,
it doesn’t matter.
We have fallen into the place
where everything is music.
The strumming and the flute notes
rise into the atmosphere,
and even if the whole world’s harp
should burn up, there will still be
hidden instruments playing.
So the candle flickers and goes out,
We have a piece of flint, and a spark.
This singing art is sea foam.
The graceful movements come from a pearl
somewhere on the ocean floor.
Poems reach up like spindrift and the edge
of driftwood along the beach, wanting!
They derive from a slow and powerful root
that we can’t see.
Stop the words now.
Open the window in the center of your chest,
and let the spirits fly in and out.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Have a beautiful weekend!
The Poetry Friday Roundup is being hosted today by Lee Wind at I’m Here. I’m Queer. What the Hell do I Read?
The morning wind spreads its fresh smell.
We must get up and take that in,
that wind that lets us live.
Breathe before it’s gone.
Dance, when you’re broken open.
Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of the fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance, when you’re perfectly free.
~ from The Essential Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks and John Moyne (Harper, 1995).
Copyright © 2010 Jama Rattigan of jama rattigan’s alphabet soup. All rights reserved.