The Wrist

THE WRIST


Who are you? The inner vision of consciousness?
The heart? A sacred half-light, are you that?


Do you grow gatherings? Are you a friend
of the sun, who comes and goes so quickly?


Do not forget your vertical passage,
the night of power,
and don't hide from the one
for whom all our secrets are down in the pillow under
his head, doctor of lovers, soul
for this thick world,
the one who spirals iron
like dough and makes the body lightedness.


No belief is necessary to enter this tent
where one love story changes to another.


I remember that with these words brought here
by a falcon from the wrist of Shams,


~~~~~~~~~


If the beloved is everywhere,
the lover is a veil,


but when living itself
becomes the Friend,
lovers disappear.
 ~ Rumi


****


And therein, lies the real quest of my soul.


REMEMBER. REMEMBER. REMEMBER.


You are meant to be in society, but you do not have to be like any one of them.


That is NOT your role, so remind yourself once more.  Quit falling back to sleep.


And ask for where to go from here, because you are running conflicting desires.


Either desire to shift  entirely and be down with it, or desire to fulfil your tasks here and learn the lessons that they annoyingly tell you you aren't learning.

If the beloved is everywhere,

the lover is a veil,

but when living itself

becomes the Friend,

lovers disappear.