Monday, April 07, 2008

Day 7 Poetry: How Did You Get Away?

He died in 1273, which is amazing because his words haven't lost any of their currency. Rumi, a Persian Muslim Philosopher, filled volumes with his wise poetry and reflections. Such as:
"Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray."

Sometimes you just have to fly forth and let yourself be.....
How did you get away?
You were the pet falcon of an old woman.
Did you hear the falcon-drum?
You were a drunken songbird put in with owls.
Did you smell the odor of a garden?
You got tired of sour fermenting and left the tavern.
You went like an arrow to the target
from the bow of time and place.
The man who stays at the cemetery pointed the way,
but you didn't go.
You became light and gave up wanting to be famous.
You don't worry about what you're going to eat,
so why buy an engraved belt?
I've heard of living at the center, but what about
leaving the center of the center?
Flying toward thankfulness, you become
the rare bird with one wing made of fear,
and one of hope. In autumn,
a rose crawling along the ground in the cold wind.
Rain on the roof runs down and out by the spout
as fast as it can.
Talking is pain. Lie down and rest,
now that you've found a friend to be with.


  1. Hmmmm, this reminds me of one of your own poems KJ ... about the bird! These poems you're choosing are all about trusting youself ...

  2. Another splendid poem to start the day. Thank you, KJ! Rumi is fantastic.

  3. I agree with anonymous, it does SO sound like you kj!

  4. Oh I like that one a lot-one wing of hope, one of fear. Gives me chills, and reminds me that the best adventures are the ones with no sure outcome.