To Rumi
To Rumi
Tell the Friend I’m coming, with a wine sack and a thirst.
Been too long in solitude, got a sickness in my bones.
Pray? Where was Shams when my need was so great?
“Suffer the pain…it’s the only rule”, you said.
When governed by nafs you are like the dry mule
Being steered away from the trough into the hot sun.
To become a garden one must, first, be a desert;
To become a lover one must, first, be a seeker.
The Master says, “Love is your true health…
The wine we always mention.” And the Dervish
Dances, a dust mote in this “play of presences”.
He knows the door to reality is an illusion,
A delusion…one drink away…and he dances.
So come with me, my Sufi friend, and heal me,
Take this empty goblet and fill me up!
Let’s get totally sick and submerge ourselves
In the sweet spring water. Let the wine flow!
Let love flow! Bathe our “body, soul, shadow”.