It lands left.
I ride after a deer and find myself
Chased by a hog.
I plot to get what I want
And end up in prison.
I dig pits to trap others
And fall in.
I should be suspicious
Of what I want.
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Any Soul That Drank The Nectar
Any soul that drank the nectar of your passion was lifted.From that water of life he is in a state of elation.Death came, smelled me, and sensed your fragrance instead.From then on, death lost all hope of me.
Lovers share a sacred decree –
They roll head over heels,rushing toward the Beautiful Onelike a torrent of water.In truth, everyone is a shadow of the Beloved –Our seeking is His seeking,Our words are His words.At times we flow toward the Belovedlike a dancing stream.At times we are still waterheld in His pitcher.At times we boil in a potturning to vapor…
Sleep Of The Body The Soul’s Awakening
Every night Thou freest our spirits from the bodyAnd its snare, making them pure as rased tablets.Every night spirits are released from this cage,And set free, neither lording it nor lorded over.At night prisoners are unaware of their prison,At night kings are unaware of their majesty.Then there is no thought or care for loss or…
Ghazal 314
You who are not kept anxiously awake for love’s sake, sleep on.In restless search for that river, we hurry along;you whose heart such anxiety has not disturbed, sleep on.Love’s place is out beyond the many separate sects;since you love choosing and excluding, sleep on.Love’s dawn cup is our sunrise, his dusk our supper;you whose longing…
What was said to the rose that made it open was said
What was told the cypress that made it strongand straight, what waswhispered the jasmine so it is what it is, whatever madesugarcane sweet, whateverwas said to the inhabitants of the town of Chigil inTurkestan that makes themso handsome, whatever lets the pomegranate flower blushlike a human face, that isbeing said to me now. I blush….
This We Have Now
This we have nowis not imagination. This is notgrief or joy. Not a judging state,or an elation,or sadness. Those come and go.This is the presence that doesn’t.
Who makes these changes?
I shoot an arrow right.
It lands left.
I ride after a deer and find myself
Chased by a hog.
I plot to get what I want
And end up in prison.
I dig pits to trap others
And fall in.
I should be suspicious
Of what I want.
Similar Posts
A certain person came to the Friend’s door
‘Who’s there?’‘It’s me.’The Friend answered, ‘Go away. There’s no placefor raw meat at this table.’The individual went wandering for a year.Nothing but the fire of separationcan change hypocrisy and ego. The person returnedcompletely cooked,walked up and down in front of the Friend’s house,gently knocked.‘Who is it?’‘You.’‘Please come in, my self,there’s no place in this house…
Fireflies In The Garden – Poem by Robert Frost
Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,And here on earth come emulating flies,That though they never equal stars in size,(And they were never really stars at heart)Achieve at times a very star-like start.Only, of course, they can’t sustain the part.
Reason Says Love Says
Reason says, “ I will beguile him with the tongue.”; Love says,“Be silent. I will beguile him with the soul.”The soul says to the heart, “Go, do not laugh at me and yourself.What is there that is not his, that I may beguile himthereby?”He is not sorrowful and anxious and seeking oblivion that Imay beguile…
In Equal Sacrifice – Poem by Robert Frost
Thus of old the Douglas did:He left his land as he was bidWith the royal heart of Robert the BruceIn a golden case with a golden lid,To carry the same to the Holy Land;By which we see and understandThat that was the place to carry a heartAt loyalty and love’s command,And that was the case…
Sonnet Xvi by William Shakespeare
But wherefore do not you a mightier wayMake war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?And fortify yourself in your decayWith means more blessed than my barren rhyme?Now stand you on the top of happy hours,And many maiden gardens yet unsetWith virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,Much liker than your painted counterfeit:So should the lines of…
The Quality Of Mercy by William Shakespeare
The quality of mercy is not strain’d.It droppeth as the gentle rain from heavenUpon the place beneath. It is twice blest:It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomesThe throned monarch better than his crown.His scepter shows the force of temporal power,The attribute to awe and majesty,Wherein doth sit…