National Poetry Month 2010

Meister Eckhart*

HE TOLD ME A JOKE

My Lord told me a joke.

And seeing Him laugh has done more for me

than any scripture I will

ever read.

~

Rabia*

JEALOUS OF A POND

When God said, "My hands are yours," I saw that I could heal any creature in this world;

I saw that the divine beauty in each heart

is the root of all time

and space.

I was once a sleeping ocean

and in a dream became

jealous of a

pond.

A penny can be eyed in the street

and a war can break out

over it amongst

the poor.

Until we know that God lives in us

and we can see Him

there,

a great poverty

we suffer.

~

IT ACTS LIKE LOVE

It acts like love - music -

it reaches toward the face, touches it, and tries to let you know

His promise: that all will be okay.

It acts like love - music and,

tells the feet, "You do not have to be so burdened."

My body is covered in wounds

this world made,

but I still longed to kiss Him, even when God said,

"Could you also kiss the hand that caused

each scar,

for you will not find me until

you do."

It does that - music - helps us

to forgive.

~

Kabir*

I WOULD BE GLAD

You are sitting in a wagon being

drawn by a horse whose

reins you

hold.

There are two inside of you

who can steer.

Though most never hand the reins to Me

so they go from place to place the

best they can, though

rarely happy.

And rarely does their whole body laugh

feeling God's poke

in the

ribs.

If you feel tired, dear,

my shoulder is soft,

I'd be glad to

steer a

while.

~

St. Teresa of Avila*

HE DESIRED ME SO I CAME CLOSE

He desired me so I came close.

No one can near God unless He has

prepared a bed for

you.

A thousand souls hear His call every second,

bust most every one then looks into their life's mirror and

says, "I am not worthy to leave this sadness."

When I first heard His courting song, I too

looked at all I had done in my life

and said,

"How can I gaze into His omnipresent eyes?"

I spoke those words with all

my heart,

but then He sang again, a song even sweeter,

and when I tried to shame myself once more from His presence

God showed Me His compassion and spoke a divine truth,

"I made you, dear, and all I make is perfect.

Please come close, for I

desire

you."

*as translated (with much artistic freedom) by Daniel Ladinsky

Book Excerpt: "The Essential Rumi"

From pages 132 & 133:

On the Sheikh

The existence of the beloved is not provable, nor is it fantasy. The Friend, as Rumi usually calls this presence within and infinitely beyond the senses, is elusive and nearer than the big vein on your neck; you need a mirror to see it. The sheikh is a mirror, a reminder of that presence, and a cook. The understanding that comes through a sheikh gives nourishment and transforming energy to many. Rumi's image of a disciple is a chickpea that sprouts and enjoys the rainy garden of sexual pleasure. It matures to its hardened form, then gets picked and thrown in the cooking pot. The cook's tending is careful and constant and, in Rumi's case, garrulous [excessively chatty]. Gradually the disciple softens and takes on flavors the cook adds. Eventually he or she becomes tasty enough to be appealing to those who in the sufi tradition are called the True Human Beings. So the chickpea moves from garden to cooking pot to a taste for the cook, finally to become sustenance for a mysterious community.

Chickpea to Cook

A chickpea leaps almost over the rim of the pot

where it's being boiled

"Why are you doing this to me?"

The cook knocks him down with the ladle.

"Don't you try to jump out.

You think I'm torturing you.

I'm giving you flavor,

so you can mix with spices and rice

and be the lovely vitality of a human being

Remember when you drank rain in the garden.

That was for this."

Grace first. Sexual pleasure,

then a boiling new life begins,

and the Friend has something good to eat.

Eventually the chickpea

will say to the cook,

"Boil me some more.

Hit me with the skimming spoon.

I can't do this by myself.

I'm like an elephant that dreams of gardens

back in Hindustan and doesn't pay attention

to his driver. You're my cook, my driver,

my way into existence. I love your cooking."

The cook says,

                            "I was once like you,

fresh from the ground. Then I boiled in time,

and boiled in the body, two fierce boilings.

My animal soul grew powerful.

I controlled it with practices,

and boiled some more, and boiled

once beyond that,

                                 and became your teacher."