I am a poet, lover of life, reader, hoper, dreamer, peace-lover, wife, daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, cousin, friend, soul within a body, weak fighter to my ego, seeker of the Divine and a drop in the ocean of love.
Step into my world and thank you for visiting...
Sunday, August 2, 2009
The Shape of My Tongue - Rumi
This mirror inside me shows . . . I can’t say what, but I can’t not know!
I run from body. I run from spirit. I do not belong anywhere.
I’m not alive! You smell the decay?
You talk about my craziness. Listen rather to the honed-blade sanity I say.
This gourd head on top of a dervish robe, do I look like someone you know?
This dipper gourd full of liquid, upsidedown and not spilling a drop!
Or if it spills, it drops into God and rounds into pearls.
I form a cloud over that ocean and gather spillings.
When Shams is here, I rain.
After a day or two, lilies sprout, the shape of my tongue.