“Surrender”
Joseph is back.
And if you don’t feel yourself
in the freshness of Joseph,
be Jacob.
Weep, and then smile.
Do not pretend to know something
you have not experienced.
There is a necessary dying,
and the Jesus is breathing again.
Very little grows on jagged rock.
Be ground. Be crumbled,
so wildflowers will come up
where you are.
You have been stony for too many years.
Try something different. Surrender.
~Rumi
I AM THINE AND THOU ART MINE
Eternal Life is gained
by utter abandonment of one’s own life.
When God appears to His ardent lover,
the lover is absorbed in Him, and not so much as a hair of the lover remains.
True lovers are as shadows,
and when the sun shines in glory the shadows vanish away.
He is a true lover to God to whom God says
“I am thine and thou art Mine.”
- Rumi
See the travelers at the doorway,
Coming together, one after another.
There is in every speck another doorway,
So from each speck there is another way.
How would you ever know which way you'd be walking,
And from which way you'd reach the doorway?
He's hidden when you seek him in the obvious,
And obvious when you seek him in the hidden.
And as you look into both places at once,
no trace of him still, he's out of both.
You haven't lost anything, don't seek a thing
Whatever you say it's not it, don't say a thing,
All you say and all you know is you,
Know thyself, that you are all there is to know."
- Attar of Neishabur (Mantegh-ol-tayr - the way of the bird)
Beloveds, this poem is long but one may wander or whirl around it as a dervish and then return to the beginning to travel a cleat and straight path through it. Enjoy its ethereal beauty and the journey.
-Hakima
—Day or night?
—No, O friend, it is a never-ending twilight
with two pigeons passing by on the wind
like two white coffins
and voices from far away, from that alien field
vagrant and wavering, like the wind
◊◊
—Something must be said
Something must be said
I crave to be one with darkness
Something must be said
What a deep amnesia
An apple falls from the branch
Yellow grains of flax seeds break
in the beaks of my lovesick canaries
The fava's flower yields its blue tendrils to the intoxicating breeze
so as to escape
the vague anxiety of change
And here, in me, in my head?
Ah . . .
There is nothing in my head except the whirling of tiny thick red
particles
and my gaze
is like a lie
downcast and ashamed
—I am thinking of a moon
—I, of a word in a poem
—I am thinking of a spring
—I, of an illusion in the soil
—I, of the rich scent of a wheat field
—I, of a fairytale about bread
—I, of the innocence of games
and of that long narrow alleyway
filled with the perfume of the acacia trees
—I, of the bitter awakening after a game
and of the bewilderment after the alleyway
and of the endless emptiness after the perfume of the acacias
◊◊
—Heroics?
—Ah
The horses are old
—Love?
—It is alone and from a low window looks out
at deserts missing Majnūn
at pathways that vaguely recall
a delicate ankle’s languid walk, its anklets
—Desires?
—They give up
at the merciless coordination of thousands of doors
—Shut?
—Yes, always shut, shut
—You will get tired
—I am thinking of a house
with the breathing of its ivy, indolent,
with its lights, like the pupil of an eye
with its pensive nights, lazy, at ease
and of a newborn with boundless smiles
like concentric circles on the water
its body plump with blood, like a cluster of grapes
—I am thinking of its collapse
and the looting by black gusts
and of a suspicious light
that at night searches into the window
and of a small grave, small as a newborn
—Work . . . work?
—Yes, but in that big desk
lives a secret enemy
who gnaws at you very slowly
as it does the wood and the notebook
and thousands of other useless things
and in the end, you will sink in a cup of tea
like a boat in a whirlpool
and on the farthest horizon see nothing
but thick cigarette smoke
and incomprehensible lines
—A star?
—Yes, hundreds, hundreds, but
all on the far side of the walled-in nights
—A bird?
—Yes, hundreds, hundreds, but
all in distant memories
flapping their wings with useless pride
—I am thinking of a cry in the alleyway
—I, of a harmless mouse in the wall
that once in a while scrabbles by
◊◊
Something must be said
Something must be said
in the dawn, in the trembling moment that space
like the sensation of puberty
mixes suddenly with something vague
I want
to surrender to a rebellion
I want
to rain from that big cloud I want
to say No No No No
—Let’s go
—Something must be said
— The cup, or the bed, or loneliness, or sleep?
—Let’s go. . . .
Forough Farrokhzad, translated from the Persian by Elizabeth T. Gray, Jr.
The phone don't ring, no, no
And the sun refused to shine
Never thought I'd have to pay so dearly
For what was already mine
For such a long, long time
We made mad love, shadow love
Random love and abandoned love
Accidentally like a martyr
The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder
We made mad love, shadow love
Random love and abandoned love
Accidentally like a martyr
The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder
The days slide by, should've done
Should've done, we all sigh
Never thought I'd ever be so lonely
After such a long, long time
Time out of mind
We made mad love, shadow love
Random love and abandoned love
Accidentally like a martyr
The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder
We made mad love, shadow love
Random love and abandoned love
Accidentally like a martyr
The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder
We made mad love, shadow love
Random love and abandoned love
Accidentally like a martyr
The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder
We made mad love, shadow love
Random love and abandoned love
Accidentally like a martyr
The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder
~ Warren Zevon
(accidental sufi)
Your love
Should never be offered to the mouth of a stranger,
Only to someone who has the valor and daring
To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife
Then weave them into a blanket
To protect you.
Stay close to any sounds that make you glad you are alive.
Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you.
I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in the darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.
There are different wells within your heart.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far too deep for that
Fear is the cheapest room in the house. I would like to see you living in better conditions.
Even after all this time the sun never says to the Earth, “You owe me”
There is no pleasure without a tincture of bitterness.
~Hafiz
Don't ask so much what the world needs.
Go out and do what makes you come alive,
because what the world needs most
are people who have come alive.
~ Howard Thurman
Follow Your Bliss
It has been twenty-some years since I first heard the great American mystic Joseph Campbell say that the secret of life was to "Follow Your Bliss". At the time, that simple little phrase seemed quite foolish to me. It seemed so selfish, so hedonistic. How can anyone just follow their bliss?? There's work to be done, bills to be paid, matters of consequence to take care of. But now, twenty-some years later, after struggling to no avail on countless foolhardy paths, it is very clear that the simple phrase "Follow Your Bliss" is exactly right!
If one imagines bliss to be the satisfaction of day-to-day lusts, and pursues a life of self-centered actions, eventually one will discover that such trivial goals do not bring any lasting sense of true satisfaction. The self-centered path is hollow, unfulfilling and fails to bring any lasting peace. The transient delights are not bliss. Bliss is not a transient place, and bliss is not a self-centered place. True bliss is beyond all such petty, selfish pursuits.
The pursuit of bliss is not at all about being self-centered. There is no bliss in the little self. The real pursuit of bliss is exactly the opposite... it is the setting aside of the little self, a rising above the little self, an awakening to the Divine.
The key to the phrase "Follow Your Bliss" is discovering what true bliss really is. True bliss is not momentary. True bliss is not monetary. True bliss is not self-centered. True bliss makes no demands of anyone. True bliss does not require fame or fortune. It's free! And it's available in every moment. In the simplest of terms, bliss arises when "you" depart.
Bliss arises when one is in harmony with "what is". Bliss arises when cravings and attachments have departed. Bliss arises when the petty desires of the little self have given way to the Divine Harmony of the True Self. The little self imagines that it is very important, has great authority and exercises control over myriad events... but, alas, that is not true. Actually, there is very little that happens each day that we have any control over whatsoever. The workings of Life do not follow our whims.
When one begins to enjoy the witnessing of the awesome spectacle of Life and rises above the little self's petty whims, the Divine Harmony of all of nature becomes apparent. Every person has the capacity, and indeed the need, to discover this Divine Harmony. All of the longing and separation and selfishness of this world can be instantly vaporized by being in harmony with what is.
In every moment, bliss is awaiting discovery, longing to be expressed. In every moment, bliss is ready and waiting to shine forth. Your bliss, your own realization of the bliss of living in Harmony with all that exists, will be a unique expression of Life flowing through you. You don't need to do anything other than allow harmony and bliss to happen.
The greatest imaginable joy is in discovering the Divine Song that wants to express itself in a unique way though you. There is no grander pleasure than dancing the Divine Dance that is uniquely you.
That's Bliss! It comes from within, not from striving for outer appearances or outer circumstances. Living your own unique life in harmony with Life... that's Bliss.
Sing your song... Dance your dance....Follow Your Bliss!
~ Hazrat Inayat Khan
https://wahiduddin.net/views/follow_your_bliss.htm
Come new to this day.
Remove the rigid overcoat of experience,
the notion of knowing, the beliefs that cloud your vision.
Leave behind the stories of your life.
Spit out the sour taste of unmet expectation. Let the stale scent of what-ifs waft back into the swamp of your useless fears.
Arrive curious, without the armor of certainty, the plans and planned results of the life you’ve imagined.
Live the life that chooses you, new every breath, every blink of your astonished eyes.
Rebecca del Rios
I am full of love tonight
Come look into my eyes, and let’s go off
Sailing, my dear, on a long ocean ride.
This world will not touch you,
I will keep you snug upon my seat.
Let’s plot
To make the moon jealous
With a radiance leaping from your cheek.
I will be full of love tonight,
Come look into these ancient eyes!
And let’s go off sailing, my dear,
With our spirits intertwined.
Your body is just an old sandbar
In a speeding hourglass of time.
Love will turn the mouth of sorrow
Right side up.
Let your heart commence its destined
Laughing chime!
Hafiz will be brimful of love tonight,
Why ever be shy?
Come look into the playful eyes of my verse,
They are eternally branded,
Branded with
The Sun!
— Hafiz
the light i carry
i’ve walked through nights that
knew no end
where silence was my only friend
but even then, beneath the fear
a spark remained- still burning clear
i’ve made mistakes, i’ve let things fall
i’ve built up pride, then lost it all
but each collapse, each broken part
has shaped the contours of my heart
i’ve learned that healing’s not a race
it comes in waves, it finds its pace
and sometimes strength is simply this
to breathe, to stay, to still exist
there’s light i carry, deep inside
it flickers soft, but won’t subside
it’s hope, it’s grace, it’s something true
and it lives in me, and it lives in you
~ rumi
Be strong!
We are not here to play, to dream, to drift;
We have hard work to do and loads to lift;
Shun not the struggle, face it, ’tis God’s gift.
Be strong, be strong, be strong!
Be strong!
Say not the days are evil — who’s to blame?
And fold the hands and acquiesce — O shame!
Stand up, speak out, and bravely, in God’s Name.
Be strong, be strong, be strong!
Be strong!
It matters not how deep entrenched the wrong,
How hard the battle goes, the day, how long;
Faint not, fight on! Tomorrow comes the song.
Be strong, be strong, be strong! strong!
We are not here to play, to dream, to drift;
We have hard work to do and loads to lift;
Shun not the struggle, face it, ’tis God’s gift.
Be strong, be strong, be strong!
Be strong!
Say not the days are evil — who’s to blame?
And fold the hands and acquiesce — O shame!
Stand up, speak out, and bravely, in God’s Name.
Be strong, be strong, be strong!
Be strong!
It matters not how deep entrenched the wrong,
How hard the battle goes, the day, how long;
Faint not, fight on! Tomorrow comes the song.
Be strong, be strong, be strong!
~Maltbie Davenport Babcock
Rave on John Donne, rave on thy holy fool
Down through the weeks of ages
In the moss borne dark dank pools
Rave on down through the Industrial Revolution
Empiricism, the atomic and nuclear age
Rave on down through time and space
Down through the corridors
Rave on words on printed page
Rave on you left us infinity
And well-pressed pages for to feed
Drive on with wild abandon
Up tempo frenzied hues
Rave on, Walt Whitman, nose down in wet grass
Rave on, fill the senses on nature's bright green shady path
Rave on Omar Khayyam, rave on Kahlil Gibran
Oh, what sweet wine we drinketh
The celebration will be held
We will partake the wine and break the holy bread
Rave on let a man come out of Ireland
Rave on, Mr. Yeats
Rave on down through thy Holy Rosy Cross
Rave on down through theosophy and the Golden Dawn
Rave on through the writing of a vision
Rave on, rave on, rave on, rave on, rave on, rave on
Rave on John Donne, rave on thy holy fool
Down through the weeks of ages
In the moss borne dark dank pools
Rave on down though the Industrial Revolution
Empiricism and the atomic and nuclear age
Rave on, on printed page
~VAN MORRISON
Is this you or is it I in two deities?
Far be it from you, far be it from confirming duality
Forever there is Hu-ness for you in my La-ness
Over all, my pain is the confusion of two faces
Where is your essence from me where I used to see?
For my essence now appears where there is no “where”
And where is your face sought with my sight?
Is it in the inner heart or in the eye’s seeing?
Between you and me is an I-ness interfering with me
Take away then with your I-ness my I-ness from between us!
~Hussein Ibn Mansur Al Hallaj