Peace Poems, the Self Cries Out

[Guest guest]

Dear Friends,

 

"The inward journey is a trace of what we're looking for."

 

~Rumi~

 

 

 

Repair Thyself

 

Stitch up one tiny rent in the Cosmic Fabric of Self,

and the Light increases inside His Mooned Face, a smile breaks.

He spreads infinite threads across the Loom of Himself,

and He moves the shuttle back and forth, warp and weave both.

He guides the fine embroidery of our thinkings and our doings.

He steadies the weary, trembling hand of His many-armed Form,

and He gives a push to pierce the needle of Self through self.

This Peace, like a Golden Cord that breathes, inhabits us,

and winds through every heart and soul as Beauty breaking forth.

Become the mending thread that is "Love patching burlap with silk,"

Become a binding knot, the troth you've taken, the ring given.

Will you come weave with me a many-colored robe to fit us all?

Will you come lend your passion-threading hand at my quilting bee?

 

 

Karma Yogi in the Kitchen

 

I came upon a gardener, tending roses.

I praised the beauty of his flowers, and his eyes.

He said to me:

"I've done nothing."

"I am nothing."

 

Your nothingness

Gave me abundance.

And now, I suffer in exquisite Joy,

wanting to give this to all of you, mouth to mouth,

head to head, soul to soul.

 

Let's turn inside out and kiss

the nothingness.

Kiss this nothingness.

 

In a snowflake, touching,

the rose holds the taste

 

of Eternity

 

on the tip of a petal.

 

 

One last poem, this one's a jewel, because it's by Rumi.

 

 

A lesson in poverty -

knowing nothing,

wanting nothing.

 

I am a naked man standing

inside a mine of rubies,

clothed in red silk.

 

I absorb the shining,

 

And now, I see the Ocean;

Billions, simultaneous motions moving there.

 

 

With Love,

Mazie