A September Morning
There is some kiss we want with our whole lives, the touch of spirit on the body.
Seawater begs the pearl to break its shell, and the lily, how passionately it needs some wild darling.
At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine.
Breathe into me.
Close the language door and open the love window. The moon won’t use the door, only the window.
Watch the dust grains moving in the light near the window. Their dance is our dance.
We rarely hear that inward music but we’re all dancing to it nevertheless.
There is a passion in me that doesn’t long for anything from another human being.
I was given something else, a cap to wear in both worlds. It fell off.
One morning I went to a place beyond dawn, a source of sweetness that flows and is never less.
I have been shown a beauty that would confuse both worlds, but I won’t cause that uproar.
I am nothing but a head set on the ground as a gift for Shams.
Jalaluddin Rumi as translated by Coleman Barks in Like This: More Poetry of Rumi
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