Posts Tagged ‘mysticism’

Sunrise- water colour

This is one out of 50 illustrations I have proposed for a new version of Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat

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Why are you so enchanted by this world, when a mine of gold lies within you? ~Rumi


Eagles that soar far above cloud’s congested lanes

Seek once again their bondage,

Such is their wisdom and it goes to its very centre

of their ignorance;

Be not alarmed when the bugles sound

And the contagion of evil walks in smoke and wailing-

The victor’s price is blood and mother’s lament.

Every cleaving of the air merely

sweeps the dusty face of the earth

back and forth;

They shall too cease and wrap in the end

The disturber of earth and shaker of kingdoms.

Bid the minions of fearful factions

To lead the victor to his domain,

Into darkness and bind him to perpetual silence.

Brother what avails your search

To the depths of the farthest ocean swell

When the wind has turned

From a seizure to sleep?

If these oceans in relay swept round and round

Into a vortex without a center

Know for sure for all pother

End was not here or there

But down below laid in neat rows for timeless respite

By your father’s bier.

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Sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment. ~Rumi

Moles that upturn clods of knowledge

Smell the air and hear the siren’s cry-

it swells in ever sweetening circles:

‘Freedom of the knowledge it warms

And passes one to another in toneless bliss’-

Oh they also hearken to another

Which calls the race of slaves to obey

will of the underworld.

 Leave  the unruly race that know

The unwritten law of the soul,

but will not hearken;

Freedom of ecstasy that pours measureless

Is for them pointless,- to those

Who go by rules and lines that weave a slave’s shroud.

These shall buy their bondage all too dearly .


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God turns you from one feeling to another and teaches you by means of opposites, so that you will have two wings to fly – not one. ~Rumi

Wide awake to commune with Thee

I know dreams are real:

While asleep

My poor husk of  desires all bound in

A shroud of  ever present:

One curls around pillows and the world

Is tossed between day and night.

(No winding sheets can hold

dreams that seek their level.)

Oh God is it a dream imagined

Or the Now in  her finery

Set out to deceive?

One is a dream too real for this hollow globe

On which fate must decide one way or other.

The other is a gleam that must shimmer or

grow dim with each hour lost in

a dust storm that has strayed from its appointed path.

Athwart awake and asleep

Feeling or thought over

Which state is real or false?





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Be melting snow. Wash yourself of yourself. ~Rumi

My sympathy, like a wayward child,

Breaks out despite of

My resolve to be wise of the world;-

Oh  Fool maddened by wisdom

Of Nothingness, your unrestraint I allow and

Have your way,

Coming in the way of those

Who would not be gainsaid,

Overturning long forgotten 


And breaking coils of silence

Who would rather bawl ov’r their burdens

Unpacked from father to son

And not cast aside,-

Oh  Fool maddened by wisdom

Of Nothingness, your unrestraint I allow and

Have your way,

If this pell- mell outflow be from Nothingness

Fools will carry the burden for all

And ask no fee.


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Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form. ~Rumi

In the dream of waning moon

Is a dream she has in her hold.

Am I not a dream my mother told

With her gut-wrenching sigh?

Her joy of a child fed and washed by her vitals

Was a dream waiting to be told.

So it is decreed from old and so shall it hold

When we like a passing dream

are swept up from holy garments to fill

And color every dream that Love shall

Thenceforth exhale.




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In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. ~Rumi

Be the beacon that sweeps its wide arc

Where procession of stars, sun and the moon

Take turns to renew their eternal cycles

of Being and Becoming; 

Oh Love the sea may whimper

Oceans may rage-

how these vain strivings carry with them

man whose worth is of now and never beyond;

 It is a fever of living, a dream.

When you have set your fire on me
This unbearable lightness of existence makes want soar

Along the thermals,
Well beyond mart and the rabble

Be one with you: eternally cleansing, searching and reaching beyond Time and Space



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Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all day long-Rumi
Oh lover of my days
Tarry for the night,I’ll seek your ways
In the coal-heap of the past.
‘Oh my tender love, your wound is deep
If day has thus treated!
Leave off the ash of regrets
From the hem of your gown:
The day has its sign woven
About your brow, feel it and make it
your sign above all!
Even night shall be as plain as day.’

Day and night are sides of the same coin mined from Love-benny

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Hear blessings dropping their blossoms around you. ~Rumi

I heard silence as it dropped

from heaven:

It was there for birds to sing their

joy of living;

it was there for mothers

to dandle their babes

while the kettle bubbled;

it was there for love to speak

and be heard in unspoken words.

Oh wrap this cosmos-

the void, to brim

That the wise shall keep in their heart

As heaven on earth.


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I am invisible for night

And If the sun seek me It is in vain-

That serves him right.

Night velvet flounces

Of feathery brightness clouds bear,

Lifted by soft breeze these know

In dribs and drabs it goes all the way

where tassels blow and tease

My throat arched beyond the moon’s passage.

You ask in such impertinent plainness

‘Why wander hither and thither

In such listless wonder, Do you?

I lean out to touch the gown

Steeped in imperious purple dye-

My gown is of such pleasure

That cannot bear the roses-

And the briar must forbear

From fancies of the drab noon-tide,  

Who else but the moonbeams wove

sequins along the field of purple , and

for my pleasure?

Touch not with words to confuse

the invisible pleasure of this union with

Living and the dying.

Where none mortal may dream


they shall know me in a roundabout way;

Look not dreamer for stars, my eyes 

nor too closely at my lashes 

the seat of seven sisters weaving a dream

It  is a lie for the curious eye.

For I am beholden neither to sun nor the moon

Beyond reproach of reason and madness

I See beyond these vile mortality:

What was, what is and What will be. 


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