Light
will someday split you open;
even if your life is now a cage …
Love
will surely burst you wide open
into an unfettered,
blooming new galaxy.
– Hafiz
– Tatiana Plakhova
-
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this unlit light 
Hafiz is such a beautiful and oftentimes poignant poet. I wish people knew his name as much as they know the name Rumi. Great post.
Yes @kjpgarcia, the poetry of Hafiz is exquisite. Thanks for leaving your comment – and introducing me to your blog with its beautiful poetry and photography.
~ miriam louisa
I am enjoying Daniel Ladinsky’s interpretations. “All existence is a teeming sea of infinite life”.
Thank you for leaving your comment @clareflourish – I’m delighted to know about your blog – the “Movement and Repose” post is wonderful:
“Wisdom, and beauty, knocking on my door all the time, importunate, demanding, only needing for me to notice. Wisdom, and beauty, and Love.”
Ahhhhh!
~ miriam louisa
Please do leave a comment there. I would be pleased if people found their way to you through my blog.
It will?!?
Are you sure?!?!
♥
Dearest Leslie I don’t think I have ever been surer about anything.
I’m in covert league with Hafiz. And Rumi. And Shams. And and and …
Love has done a sneaky on me. And I wasn’t even looking.
About which, more later…
X♥X♥X♥ ~ ml
“I’m in covert league with Hafiz. And Rumi. And Shams. And and and …” OH….YES!!!!!!! Then I am holding on to your ankles this very moment Dearest ML.
x♥ x♥ x♥ ~O
Oh God
Let all lovers be content
Give them happy endings
Let their lives be celebrations
Let their hearts dance in the fire of your love.
~Rumi
Day and night my father danced in ecstasy, Spinning on earth like the turning heavens.
~Sultan Walad (Rumi’s Son) “Sama is the sacred whirling dance of the dervishes, in which the motions of the human body represent the movements of the universe.”
Amen, dearest Rashani
Whirling ~ ml
Wu said to Wei,
“there’s a natural unfolding
a non-way of sorts
in which love invisibly
happens through~not to us
without effort or action
yet with impeccable
precision
as finely focused
as a scalpel’s incision~
as purely
mysterious
as a cocoon’s dying
into a butterfly or moth
and as wondrously wild
as wildly wondrous
as an impecunious mystic
who discovers
she has won the lottery
without having bought
a ticket.
love moves
ever-bloomingly
from silence into song
through song back into silence~
sometimes fiercely
other times tenderly.
It has no preferences
IT simply knows
without knowing
the way moonlight touches~
it sees the mala beads
that still wait to be touched
by the devotee’s
precious hands.
“and,”
Wei whispered to Wu,
“once struck,
the singing bowl
simply sings
effortlessly
and unstoppably.
the vibration
of particles may cease
but since energy
like love
can not be created
or destroyed
it simply transmutes
into a different form.”
“so too,”
chimed the wind,
“the delicate scent
of ylang ylang
fills the entire garden
and one small candle
can fill a darkened room~
‘doing nothing’
yet transmuting everything.”
through love
we “do” without doing
there is nothing to do
and nothing not to do
not ‘doing’ something
and not ‘not doing’ anything
love co-arises.
we can never know it
we can only BE it.
there’s a natural
uncontrived movement
in the currents of love~
indisplaceable
like ether
love holds
and permeates all objects
and all beings.
love is the greatest
euthanasia
for the conceptual mind~
and in its mystery
we are amazed to find
more than we ever imagined
and so much less than we ever feared.
Such a treasure Rashani! Thank you. May I have your permission to post this sometime?
… from silence to song and back again …
With love ~ ml
bien sûr, ma belle~
i have changed a word or two so let me know when you will be posting it…
byron katie said, “The ‘no thing’ is no more or less than the apparent thing. It is a total love affair.”
oh yes, TOTAL!
dear miriam louisa,
here is the updated version:
Wu said to Wei,
“there’s a natural
unfolding
a non-way of sorts
in which love
invisibly happens
through
not to us
without effort or action
yet
with impeccable
precision
as finely focused
as a scalpel’s
incision
as purely
mysterious
as a cocoon’s dying
into a butterfly
or moth,
deifyingly ordinary~
bright silk lining
on a simple
clothen robe~
and wondrously wild
as an impecunious mystic
winning the lottery
without having
bought a ticket.
love moves
ever-bloomingly
from silence into song
through song back
to silence~
sometimes fiercely
other times tenderly.
It has no preferences
IT simply knows
without knowing
the way moonlight
touches~
like a single tear
from shiva’s eye
it sees
the rudraksha beads
that wait
to be touched
by the devotee’s
loving fingers.”
“and,” Wei reminded Wu,
“once struck,
the singing bowl
simply sings
effortlessly and unstoppably.
the vibration
of particles may cease
but since energy
like love
can not be created
or destroyed
it simply changes
into a different form.”
“so too,”
whispered the wind,
“the delicate scent
of ylang ylang
permeates the entire garden
and one small candle
can fill a darkened room~
‘doing nothing’
yet transmuting everything.”
through love
we “do” without doing
there is nothing to do
and nothing not to do
not ‘doing’ something
and not ‘not doing’ anything
love co-arises.
we can never know it
we can only BE it.
there’s an innocent
spontaneity,
ancient as a song line
in Gondwanaland,
moving inexorably
like ground water
beneath a barren desert.
indisplaceable
like ether
the endless helix
of love
holds
and permeates
all objects
and all beings.
love is the greatest
euthanasia
for the conceptual mind~
and in its mystery
we are destined to find
more than we ever imagined
and less than we ever feared.
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