You play with the great globe of union,
you that see everyone so clearly
and cannot be seen. Even universal
intelligence gets blurry when it thinks
you may leave. You came here alone,
but you create hundreds of new worlds.
Spring is a peacock flirting with
revelation. The rose gardens flame.
Ocean enters the boat. I throw
it all away, except this love for Shams.
Or whether doth my mind, being crowned with you,Drink up the monarch’s plague, this flattery?Or whether shall I say mine eye saith true,And that your love taught it this alchemy,To make of monsters, and things indigest,Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,Creating every bad a perfect bestAs fast as objects to his beams assemble?O, ’tis…
the proclamation of heaven has come,that the bird of the soul may rise in flight.The sea becomes full of pearls,the salt marsh becomes sweet as kauthar,the stone becomes a ruby from the mine,the body becomes wholly soul.
Everything other than love for the most beautiful Godthough it be sugar- eating.What is agony of the spirit?To advance toward death without seizinghold of the Water of Life.
Soul receives from soul that knowledge,therefore not by book nor from tongue. If knowledge of mysteries come afteremptiness of mind, that is illumination of heart.
A neighbor of mine in the villageLikes to tell how one springWhen she was a girl on the farm, she didA childlike thing. One day she asked her fatherTo give her a garden plotTo plant and tend and reap herself,And he said, ‘Why not?’ In casting about for a cornerHe thought of an idle bitOf…
Be wise as thou art cruel; do not pressMy tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;Lest sorrow lend me words and words expressThe manner of my pity-wanting pain.If I might teach thee wit, better it were,Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,No news but health…
