11 Jan

Starting the year out with a variety voices from across the spectrum, one of them is Rumi. Loved this today. essential-rumi-jelaluddin-hardcover-cover-artWonder what it would sound like hearing his own rhythms in Arabic.
Maybe I’ll just have to go there one day…

I’m so tracking with this…probably more than I wish to. Definitely more than I wish.


Muhammad went to visit a sick friend.
Such kindness brings more kindness,
and there is no knowing the proliferation from there.

The man was about to die.
Muhammad put his face close and kissed him.

His friend began to revive.
Muhammad’s visit re-created him.
He began to feel grateful for an illness
that brought such light.

And also for the backpain
that wakes him in the night.

No need to snore away like a buffalo
when this wonder is walking in the world. (Love/hate this line!)

There are values in pain that are difficult
to see without the presence of a guest.

Don’t complain about autumn.
Walk with grief like a good friend.
Listen to what he says.

Sometimes the cold and dark of a cave
give the opening we most want.

inside tomb


Posted by on January 11, 2013 in Poetry


Tags: , ,

4 responses to “backpain

  1. Jennifer Stuart

    January 12, 2013 at 12:05 am

    I don’t quite have words for how much I appreciate you sharing this particular poem. Rumi is truly amazing. The words he shares sometimes seem so simple, and sometimes I really don’t like the pictures that are put with them on Facebook, but there’s only so much you can do. Often times I think about the ideas contained in this poem- the light at the end of the cave that would not be there if it wasn’t for the cave. The feeling we have of thinking about something that isn’t happening yet, simply because we are not there. It is amazing. This is a great poem, I’m so happy you shared it!

  2. wordhaver

    January 12, 2013 at 2:37 am

    Rumi is like an undiscovered country for me. Glad this particular poem found me today – and that I felt moved to share it! Been enjoying your posts, as always Jennifer. Sorry I don’t always pause to comment. I find I read your words and then the words of all the comments, and then I’m filled – and generally at a loss as to how to add anything more (other than, perhaps, a belch!) Thank you for your presence! 🙂

  3. Jennifer Stuart

    January 12, 2013 at 8:11 pm

    Haha knowing that you are perhaps belching after reading my posts will warm my heart in the future the next time I make one 🙂 Thank you for your presence as well!

  4. wordhaver

    January 13, 2013 at 1:41 pm

    It’s good that you know and remember that. Your other readers may not understand if I were simply to comment *belch* each time I’m there. 🙂


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