Tales from outer turnip head...

Tales from outer turnip head...

Sunday, November 26, 2017

A little Rumi...

And the call went out...
Something Sang

The lute began...
My heart snapped its chains.

Something sang
from the strings—

"Wounded crazy one... come!"


--Rumi

And spoke of forgiveness...
Come, Come Whoever You Are

Come, come, whoever you are—Wanderer; worshiper; lover of leaving—What does it matter?
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vows a hundred times—Come, come gain, come.


--Rumi

And opened the door...
The beauty of the heart
is the lasting beauty:

its lips give to drink

of the water of life.

Truly it is the water,

that which pours,

and the one who drinks.

All three become one
when 
your talisman is shattered.
That oneness you can't know

by reasoning.



--Rumi


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