Saturday, June 11, 2005

Invitation

Listen to the story told by the reed of being separated.

Since I was cut from the reed bed
I have made this crying sound. Anyone
separated from someone he loves
understands what I say.

Anyone pulled from a source longs to go back.

At any gathering I am there,
mingling in the laughing
and the grieving, a friend to each.

But few will hear the secrets
hidden within the notes.

No ears for that.
Body flowing out of Spirit.
Spirit flowing from body.

No concealing that mixing,
But it's not given us to see the soul.

The reed flute is fire, not wind.
Be that empty.

Hear the love-fire tangled in the notes
as bewilderment melts into wine.

This reed is a friend to all
who want the fabric torn and drawn away.

The reed is hurt and salve combining.
Intimacy and longing for intimacy, one song.

A disasterous surrender
and a fine love, together.

-Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi
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1 comment:

iamnasra said...

Poetry by Lena Winfrey Seder a convert to Islam who currently resides in the Sudan.



Desert Rose

I began my journey the day I was born.
My name told my destiny.
Yet, it remained hidden for me to discover.
I traveled a long time to get to this moment.
So many cactuses I stumbled over in the dark.
No star lighted my path-- I was not yet awake.
Naivety guided me into sandstorms that made wounds in my soul.
Ignorance blinded me as the cactus' thorns scratched me.
However, these wounds propelled me forward and kept me on
a certain path.
One day, when I looked ahead, I saw an oasis.
A mirage, I thought, so I slowly walked towards it-- expecting
to be fooled again.
When I reached the mirage, I found a rose.
I touched it and found it was no dream.
Entranced by this rose, I placed it in the vase of my heart.
As it took root, it became a part of me.
My blindness lifted, for I could see the true Light.
Faith rested in my heart.
My desert rose led me to this destiny.
When I stray-- its paper thorns remind me to come back to
the straight path.
Each day it continues growing, it strengthens my heart and
my soul.
I water it with my prayers, my charity, my fasting.
This rose is here to stay--
It guides me to an eternal Garden.
My thoughts, my goals, my actions are preparing my place in
that Garden.
That is where I will rest my roots--
As long as this rose remains in my heart.

29/6/05

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