As Ripeness Comes – Rumi

What souls desire arrives.
We are standing up to our necks
in the sacred pool. Majesty is here.

The grains of the earth take in something
they do not understand.

Where did this come from?
It comes from where your longing comes.

From which direction?
As ripeness comes to fruit.

This answer lights a candle
in the chest of anyone who hears.

Most people only look for the way when they hurt.
Pain is a fine path to the unknowable.

But today is different.
Today the quality we call splendor
puts on human clothes, walks through the door,
closes it behind, and sits down with us
in this companionship.

These Exhaling Sounds

     Is the sweetness of the cane sweeter
than the one who made the canefield?

Behind the beauty of the moon is the moonmaker.
There is intelligence inside the ocean’s intelligence
feeding our love like an invisible waterwheel.

There is a skill to making cooking oil from animal fat.
Consider now the knack that makes eyesight
from the shining jelly of your eyes.

Dawn comes up like a beautiful meal being served.
We are hungry and distracted, so in love with the cook.

Don’t just be proud of your mustache
as you drive three donkeys down the road.

Instead of gemstones, love the jeweler.
Enough of these exhaling sounds.

Let the darling finish this
who turns listening into seeing.

– Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)

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Photo: Runaround Pond, Maine – June 2019

This is most viewed post on this blog. Why? I’m curious.

Sometimes I forget completely – Rumi

Sometimes I forget completely
what companionship is.
Unconscious and insane, I spill sad
energy everywhere. My story
gets told in various ways: a romance,
a dirty joke, a war, a vacancy.

Divide up my forgetfulness to any number,
it will go around.
These dark suggestions that I follow,
are they a part of some plan?
Friends, be careful. Don’t come near me
out of curiosity, or sympathy.

your life is like a purse of gold

Your life is like a purse of gold:
day and night are like money changers.
Continually Time counts out that gold,
until your purse is emptied and death is here.

If you dig away at a mountain
and don’t replace anything of what you’ve taken
a desolate land is left behind.

So for every breath you breathe out,
put another in its place.
Fall in worship and draw near
so you may reach your aim.

Rumi

Rumi – Imagine a man selling his donkey

Imagine a man selling his donkey
to be with Jesus.
Now imagine him selling Jesus
to get a ride on a donkey.
This does happen.

Jesus can transform a drunk into gold.
If the drunk is already golden,
he can be changed to pure diamond.
If already that, he can become the circling
planets, Jupiter, Venus, the moon.

Never think that you are worthless.
God has paid an enormous amount for you,
and the gifts keep arriving.

Story XI. The Lion who Hunted with the Wolf and the Fox – Rumi

A lion took a wolf and a fox with him on a hunting excursion, and succeeded in catching a wild ox, an ibex, and a hare. He then directed the wolf to divide the prey. The wolf proposed to award the ox to the lion, the ibex to himself, and the hare to the fox. The lion was enraged with the wolf because he had presumed to talk of “I” and “Thou” and “My share” and “Thy share,” when it all belonged of right to the lion, and he slew the wolf with one blow of his paw. Then, turning to the fox, he ordered him to make the division. The fox, rendered wary by the fate of the wolf, replied that the whole should be the portion of the lion. The lion, pleased with his self-abnegation, gave it all up to him, saying, “Thou art no longer a fox, but myself.”

Till man destroys ‘self’ he is no true friend of God.”

Once a man came and knocked at the door of his friend.
His friend said, “Who art thou, O faithful one?”
He said, “‘Tis I.” He answered, “There is no admittance.
There is no room for the ‘raw’ at my well-cooked feast.
Naught but fire of separation and absence
Can cook the raw one and free him from hypocrisy!
Since thy ‘self’ has not yet left thee,
Thou must be burned in fiery flames.”
The poor man went away, and for one whole year
Journeyed burning with grief for his friend’s absence.
His heart burned till it was cooked; then he went again
And drew near to the house of his friend.
He knocked at the door in fear and trepidation
Lest some careless word might fall from his lips.
His friend shouted, “Who is that at the door?”
He answered, “‘Tis Thou who art at the door, O Beloved!”
The friend said, “Since ‘tis I, let me come in,
There is not room for two ‘I’s in one house.”