I see my beauty in you. I become
a mirror that cannot close its eyes

to your longing. My eyes wet with
yours in the early light. My mind

every moment giving birth, always
conceiving, always in the ninth

month, always the come-point. How
do I stand this? We become these

words we say, a wailing sound moving
out into the air. These thousands of

worlds that rise from nowhere, how
does your face contain them? I’m

a fly in your honey, then closer, a
moth caught in flame’s allure, then

empty sky stretched out in homage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
DARING ENOUGH TO FINISH

Face that lights my face, you spin
intelligence into these particles

I am. Your wind shivers my tree.
My mouth tastes sweet with your name

in it. You make my dance daring enough
to finish. No more timidity! Let

fruit fall and wind turn my roots up
in the air, done with patient waiting.

— Jalal al-Din Rumi (1207-1273)
The Glance: Songs of Soul-Meeting
translated by Coleman Barks
Viking Penguin, NY (1999)