The Mangy Calf -- Rumi

[Guest guest]

The Mangy Calf

 

I went to the doctor who would cure me

and said, "I have a hundred things wrong.

 

Can you combine them into one?" I thought

you were dead! "I was, but then I caught

 

your fragrance and started to live again."

Gently he put his hand on my chest. Which

 

tribe are you? "This tribe." He began to

treat my illness. Whenever I was angry

 

and agressive, he gave me wine: I quit

fighting: I took off my clothes. I sang

 

in the circle of drunkards. I roared and

broke cups, even big jars! Some people

 

worship golden calves. I am a mangy calf

who worships love. The healing one is

 

calling me out again from the hole I have

put myself in. My soul, if I'm agile,

 

or stumbling, confused, or if I'm in my

true being, it's all you. Sometimes I

 

am the sleek arrow; sometimes the worn

leather thumbguard. You brought me here

 

where everything circles. Now you put

a lid on the wine; I'll close my mouth.

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

Mazie