“Aprendi o silêncio com os faladores, a
tolerância com os intolerantes, a bondade com os maldosos; e, por estranho que
pareça, sou grato a esses professores."
Khalil Gibran
"As borboletas continuarão a pairar sobre o campo e as gotas de orvalho ainda brilharão sobre a relva quando as pirâmides do Egito estiverem destruídas e não mais existirem os arranha-céus de Nova York." Khalil Gibran
This we have now
is not
imagination.
|
This is
not
|
grief or
joy.
|
Not a
judging state,
|
or an
elation,
|
or
sadness.
|
Those come
|
and go.
|
This is
the presence
|
that
doesn’t.
|
It's dawn,
Husam,
|
here in the splendor of coral,
|
inside the Friend, the simple truth
|
of what
Hallaj said.
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What else could human beings want?
|
When grapes turn to wine,
|
they’re
wanting
|
this.
|
When the nightsky pours by,
|
it’s really a crowd of beggars,
|
and they all want some of this!
|
This
|
that we
are now
|
created the body, cell by cell,
|
like bees building a honeycomb.
|
The human body and the universe
|
grew from this, not this
|
from the universe and the human body.
Rumi
|
|
I am dust particles in sunlight.
I am the round sun.
|
To the bits of dust I say, Stay.
|
To the sun, Keep moving.
|
I am morning mist,
|
and the breathing of evening.
|
I am wind in the top of a grove,
|
and surf on the cliff.
|
Mast, rudder, helmsman, and keel,
|
I am also the coral reef they founder on.
|
I am a tree with a trained parrot in its
branches.
|
Silence, thought, and voice.
|
The musical air coming through a flute,
|
a spark of a stone, a flickering
|
in metal. Both candle,
|
and the moth crazy around it.
|
Rose, and the nightingale
|
lost in the fragrance.
|
I am all orders of being, the circling
galaxy,
|
the evolutionary intelligence, the lift,
|
and the falling away. What is,
|
and what isn’t. You who know
|
Jelaluddin, You the one
|
in all, say who
|
I am. Say I
|
am You.
Rumi
|
Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu, | |
Buddhist, sufi, or zen. Not any religion | |
or cultural system. I am not from the East | |
or the West, not out of the ocean or up | |
from the ground, not natural or ethereal, not | |
composed of elements at all. I do not exist, | |
am not an entity in this world or the next, | |
did not descend from Adam or Eve or any | |
origin story. My place is placeless, a trace | |
of the traceless. Neither body or soul. | |
I belong to the beloved, have seen the two | |
worlds as one and that one call to and know, | |
first, last, outer, inner, only that | |
breath breathing human being.
Rumi |