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9 notes”

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humabyrd: tunnels Love is an underground river thundering along the path  of least resistance shaping an opening ample enough to enter the substratum of your Being listening, you can hear  the moan of water  wearing down rock face

humabyrd:

tunnels

Love is an underground river

thundering along the path 

of least resistance

shaping an opening

ample enough to enter

the substratum of your Being

listening, you can hear 

the moan of water 

wearing down rock face

Filed under poetry sufi mystic spirit wisdom

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0 notes &

Oh my Master, my Lord, please hear my prayer!

Grant the boon that I may keep on weeping, always,
.

like a madman,
.


while sleeping, while I am awake—always my eyes should be full of tears,
.

weeping should be the business of my life. I shall weep too much, every time, at every place I shall weep.
.
Do not let my scoundrel mind be lost again in petty things.
.

Even as I weep without stopping let me call only on You all ways, Beloved.

.

नाथ ! मुझे रोने का वरदान दो ! रोता रहूँ , पागल की भाँति सदा रोऊँ , उठते - बैठते , सोते - जागते सदा इन आँखोँ मेँ आँसू ही भरे रहेँ , रोना ही मेरे जीवन का व्यापार हो , खूब रोऊँ , हर समय रोऊँ , हर जगह रोऊँ और जोर - जोर से रोते - रोते तुम्हेँ - केवल तुम्हेँ पुकारता रहूँ ।

Excerpted from Makhan Lal Chaturvedi’s poem ” I weep”

Modified translation, courtesy Sri Yogrishi Sharmaji


sourced, with gratitude

Filed under Makhan Lal Chaturved I weep mystic poetry

1 note &

Those who have reached their arms into emptiness are no longer concerned with lies and truth, with mind and soul, or which side of the bed they rose from. If you are still struggling to understand, you are not there. You offer your soul to one who says, “Take it to the other side.” You’re on neither side, yet those who love you see you on one side or the other.  You say Illa, “only God,”  then your hungry eyes see you’re in  “nothing,” La. You’re an artist who paints both with existence and non.  Shams could help you see who you are,  but remember, You are not your eyes. . .                                  ~Coleman barks Rumi, the Book of Love page 14

Those who have reached their arms into emptiness are no longer concerned with lies and truth, with mind and soul,

or which side of the bed they rose from.

If you are still struggling to understand, you are not there.

You offer your soul to one who says, “Take it to the other side.”

You’re on neither side, yet

those who love you see you on one side or the other. 

You say Illa, “only God,” 

then your hungry eyes see you’re in 

“nothing,” La. You’re an artist

who paints both with existence and non. 

Shams could help you see who you are, 

but remember, You are not your eyes.

.
.
                                 ~Coleman barks Rumi, the Book of Love page 14

Filed under coleman barks rumi house of love poetry mystic

1 note”

1 note &

“Why ask about behavior when you are soul-essence, and a way of seeing into presence! Plus you’re with us!                                How could you worry? You may as well free a few words from your vocabulary. Why and how and impossible. Open the mouth-cage and let those fly away. We were all born by accident, but still this wandering caravan will make camp in perfection. Forget the nonsense categories of there and here, race, nation, religion, starting point and destination. You are soul, and you are love, not a sprite or an angel or a human being! You’re a Godman-woman  God-man  God-Godwoman! No more questions now as to what it is we’re doing here.” . .          ~Coleman barks Rumi, the Book of Love pages 12, 13

“Why ask about behavior when you are soul-essence,

and a way of seeing into presence!

Plus you’re with us!

                               How could you worry?

You may as well free a few words from your vocabulary.

Why and how and impossible.

Open the mouth-cage and let those fly away.

We were all born by accident, but still this wandering caravan

will make camp in perfection.

Forget the nonsense categories of there and here,

race,

nation,

religion,

starting point and destination.

You are soul, and you are love,
not a sprite or an angel or a human being!
You’re a Godman-woman  God-man  God-Godwoman!
No more questions now
as to what it is we’re doing here.”
.
.
         ~Coleman barks Rumi, the Book of Love pages 12, 13

Filed under barking dogs Rumi book of love mystic poetry

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8 notes &

Bliss: Worthless


Worthless

A rose that isn’t the Beloved’s face is worthless;


A spring that is not made of wine is worthless too.


The fences around the fields and the breeze blowing in gardens
Without the Beloved’s tulip cheek are worth nothing and without grace.


What use are sugary lips and roses that look like God,
Without His kiss or smothering embrace?


The dance of the swaying cypress and the rapture of the rose,
Without the nightingale’s songs, are worthless.


O gardener, every picture that the hands of intellect have drawn
Is useless unless they have traced Your face.


So, if you are drinking wine or sitting in the garden with roses;
Instead of seeking the Beloved, then you are wasting time.


Hafiz, your life is nothing more than a tarnished old coin,
Traded again and again for others to deface.

Don’t you have something better you can do?

~Hafiz

.

.

(a gift from orphic)

Filed under Hafiz mystic poetry sufi sufism worthless beloved

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