No more with the sociopath on Tuesday’s whose inga is in question. Instead I will walk the city streets and talk about sing-along’s, whiskey, and shamrocks. But only in March, and only for a night. I hope you enjoy today’s poem, brought to you by Islamic mystic poet and founder of the Sufi order of the whirling dervishes. . .Rumi:
if anyone asks you
how the perfect satisfaction
of all our sexual wanting
will look, lift your face
when someone mentions the gracefulness
of the night sky, climb up on the roof
and dance and say,
if anyone wants to know what “spirit” is,
or what “God’s fragrance” means,
lean your head toward him or her.
keep your face there close.
when someone quotes the old poetic image
about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
slowly loosen knot by knot the strings
of your robe.
if anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,
don’t try to explain the miracle.
kiss me on the lips.
like this. Like this.
when someone asks what it means
to “die for love,” point
if someone asks how tall I am, frown
and measure with your fingers the space
between the creases on your forehead.
the soul sometimes leaves the body, the returns.
when someone doesn’t believe that,
walk back into my house.
when lovers moan,
they’re telling our story.
I am a sky where spirits live.
stare into this deepening blue,
while the breeze says a secret.
when someone asks what there is to do,
light the candle in his hand.
how did Joseph’s scent come to Jacob?
how did Jacob’s sight return?
a little wind cleans the eyes.
when Shams comes back from Tabriz,
he’ll put just his head around the edge
of the door to surprise us
from ‘The Essential Rumi’, Translations by Coleman Barks with John Moyne