Thursday, November 17, 2011

Lead Us


If there's ONE Rumi poem which keeps coming to mind the most it's this one (Even the very beginning works well by itself and the middle is perhaps too dense for now.)

A Zero-Circle

Be helpless and dumbfounded,
unable to say yes or no.

The a stretcher will come
from grace to gather us up...

Crazed, lying in a zero-circle, mute,
we will be saying finally,
with tremendous eloquence, Lead us.

When we've totally surrendered to that beauty,
we'll become a mighty kindness.


In addition, I'm not at all sure if this is the accurate poet of this one...yet I find it quite interesting:

I saw this in an older forum - the poster said:

This is a poem by Rumi's oldest son, Bahauddin:

Where Are All the Others?

Those full of fear are not really on the way.
Everyone here is a king. No servants.

The wave can never be afraid of the ocean.
Inside that motion, how can anything be "other?"

When you feel separate, you're in your imagination.
Saints are the lights we see within this

exquisite fluid, and I'm not talking
about the elements! There's a light

that's the opposite of fire, as white to black.
When what I'm pointing to arrives,

there's no trace of burning. Don't ask
for a lineage of revelation, or explication

of texts, or rules of morality. There's nothing
here but love and mystery. Welcome to the tavern

where drunkards get sober and transparent,
until they disappear altogether in the face

of the one they love. Whatever loosens the taste
of their joy comes new with each breath.

In this orchard, and for the garden we farm,
there's no summer or winter. Roses open

every direction. This world's existence
is one night long. There's a great lively

gathering that night, but some people sleep
through it. Anyone who has seen the Beloved

wonders, "Where are all the others?" This
has nothing to do with thinking or belief.

Bahauddin, you've been left here alone
without your father, the great Mevlana.

From now on you'll have no friend,
no form to love, only what's real.

From a Commenter on this older forum:

What I really love about Rumi's poem is this, every single poem of him tell us his search for Allah. Some of his poem are so sad, some so mad, some so crazy and some filled with joy. The absolute beauty of his poem will be know if we follow it from his early stage of his life, before he meet Shams, then when He meet Shams we could see the difference in his view, as he keep searching and searching from the beginning to the end, we could feel the transformation in Him...

(Finally) in Rumi's world there is no Rumi or Shams or anyone else, only the One, Allah.
Image above found on blogsite called HeavenlyMindedEarthlyGood with this quote underneath it:
"That which does no earthly good cannot be heavenly minded." R. Rivera

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