Sunday, September 19, 2010

Rumi: This World

This World Which Is Made of Our Love for Emptiness

Praise to the emptiness that blanks out existence. Existence:
This place made from our love for that emptiness!
 Yet somehow comes emptiness,
this existence goes.
 Praise to that happening, over and over!
For years I pulled my own existence out of emptiness.
 Then one swoop, one swing of the arm,
that work is over.
 Free of who I was, free of presence, free of dangerous fear, hope,
free of mountainous wanting.
 The here-and-now mountain is a tiny piece of a piece of straw
blown off into emptiness.
 These words I'm saying so much begin to lose meaning:
Existence, emptiness, mountain, straw:
 Words and what they try to say swept
out the window, down the slant of the roof.


1 comment:

babahr said...

absolutely wonderful.