POETRY: Rumi - poems in praise of God

To love is to reach God.

Never will a lover's chest
feel any sorrow.
Never will a lover's robe
be touched by mortals.
Never will a lover's body
be found buried in the earth.
To love is to reach God.

 
I saw my Good and Beautiful King,
That Witness of the heart’s light,
That Comforter and Friend of the soul,
That Spirit of all the world.
I saw the One who gives
wisdom to the wise,
purity to the pure;
The One adorned by the moon and stars,
The One towards whom all saints bow.
Every cell of my body called out:
Praise Be To The Lord! Glory To God!

My crippled poetry began to dance
with the light of God’s Name.
His Name brought the angel of words
into the house of my mind.
In every verse a thousand maidens give birth,
yet like Mary,
each remains a virgin.
 



 
The Man of God is drunken without wine,
The Man of God is full without meat.
The Man of God is distraught and bewildered,
The Man of God has no food or sleep.
The Man of God is a king beneath a dervish-cloak,
The Man of God is a treasure in a ruin.
The Man of God is not of air and earth,
The Man of God is not of fire and water.
The Man of God is a boundless sea,
The Man of God rains pearls without a cloud.
The Man of God has hundred moons and skies,
The Man of God has hundred suns.
The Man of God is made wise by the Truth,
The Man of God is not learned from book.
The Man of God is beyond infidelity and religion,
To the Man of God, right and wrong are alike.
The Man of God has ridden away from Not-being,
The Man of God is gloriously attended.
The Man of God is concealed, Shamsi Din;
The Man of God go seek and find!
 



   
God was jealous of His own face
and so He created the splendor of morning.
When the spirit awoke in that light, it said,
To grasp God’s beauty, you must become God.
 



 
In love, aside from sipping the wine of timelessness,
nothing else exists.
There is no reason for living except for giving one's life.
I said, "First I know You, then I die."
God said, "For the one who knows Me, there is no dying."
 



 
O God,
You are the Graceful and the Beautiful,
You are the Highest Love,
You are the Giver of life.
What misery and hardship comes
To those who turn away from You!

The soul that hasn't received
peace and love from God,
what a helpless and
lost soul that is! 
With whom are you
going to be in love?
Be thankful to God
that your punishment
came from temporary side of love.
But leave the temporary love,
because real love is God's Love.
  
 
 
When you begin to love God, God is loving you.
A clapping sound does not come from one hand. Lightning from here strikes there. No lover wants union with the Beloved without the Beloved also wanting the lover. Love makes the lover weak, while Beloved always remains strong. 
A thirsty man calls out,
'Delicious water, where are you?'  while the water moans, 'Where is the water drinker?' 
The thirst in our souls is the attraction put out by the Water itself. We belong to Him, and He to us. 
God's wisdom made us lovers of one another. In fact, all the particles of the world are in love and looking for lovers. 
And the Holy Spirit helps with everything, like a young man trying to support a family. We, like the man's young wife, stay home, taking care of the house, nursing the children. 
Spirit and matter work together like this, in a division of labor. Remember what the soul wants, because in that, eternity is wanting our souls. 
God fixes a passionate desire in you, and then disappoints you. God does that a hundred times. 
God breaks the wings of one intention and then gives you another, cuts the rope of contriving, so you'll remember your dependence. 
Don't be presumptuous and say one or the other. Close your lips.
The mystery of loving is God's sweetest secret. 
Your prayer should always be: Break the legs of what I want to happen. Humiliate my ego. It's Spring and finally I have no will.
 

 
Our death is our wedding with eternity. What is the secret? "God is One." The sunlight splits when entering the windows of the house. This multiplicity exists in the cluster of grapes; It is not in the juice made from the grapes. For he who is living in the Light of God, The death of the carnal soul is a blessing. Regarding him, say neither bad nor good, For he is gone beyond the good and the bad. Fix your eyes on God and do not talk about what is invisible, So that he may place another look in your eyes. It is in the vision of the physical eyes That no invisible or secret thing exists. But when the eye is turned toward the Light of God What thing could remain hidden under such a Light? Although all lights emanate from the Divine Light Don't call all these lights "the Light of God"; It is the eternal light which is the Light of God, The ephemeral light is an attribute of the body and the flesh. Oh God who gives the grace of vision! The bird of vision is flying towards You with the wings of desire.
  

 
 
God said to the mind, “Return from where you came.” He said to the hand of death, “Grab hold of worldly men.” He said to the soul, “Fly to the Unseen. Take all the treasure you can carry and cry no more.” 
My soul wants to fly away When Your Presence calls it so sweetly. My soul wants to take flight When You whisper, “Arise.” 
A fish wants to dive from dry land into the ocean when it hears the roaring waves. A falcon wants to return from the forest  to the King’s wrist when it hears the drum beating “Return.” 
A Sufi, shimmering with light, wants to dance like a sunbeam when darkness surrounds him. 
O bird, fly back to your native land. You have broken free from your cage; Your wings are eager for flight. 
Fly from the brackish puddle toward the flowing waters of life! Leave the room where they put the dirty sandals and return to the royal seat of the soul! 
O soul, leave behind this world of separation and come with us to the world of union. How long will you play in this dusty world like a child filling his skirt with worthless stones? 
Cast away the burdens of the earth and fly upward toward heaven! Put away your childish care and join the royal banquet. 
Behold the countless ways this body has entrapped you! Break its deadly hold. Rise up, lift your head clear of this delusion. 
Reach for the Holy Book with your right hand You are not like a child who doesn't know right from left.
You ask, “Who is the King?” Tell the world that you are the King! Your knowledge has brought the question, And your grace has given the answer.
  
 
 
O Lord, You are the comfort of my soul in the season of sorrow. You are the wealth of my spirit in the heartbreak of loss. 
The unimaginable, The unknowable That is what You give my soul when it moves in Your direction. 
By Your grace my eyes have looked upon eternity. O King, how could this crumbling empire ever take me from you? 
The voice that sings Your name is sweeter than midnight sleep more graceful than the song of a royal poet. 
When deep in prayer my faith is bound by the thought of You, not the seven verses of faith. 
You greet sinners with mercy, You melt stone hearts with love. If I were offered a kingdom, And the world’s riches were placed at my feet, I would bow with my face low and say, This does not compare to His Love!
 
 
 
Do not despair if the Beloved pushes you away. If He pushes you away today it’s only so He can draw you back tomorrow. 
If He closes the door on your face, don’t leave, wait! you’ll soon be by His side. 
If He bars every passage, don’t lose hope! He’s about to show you a secret way that nobody knows. 
A butcher cuts off a sheep’s head for food,  not just to throw away. When the sheep no longer has breaththe butcher fills it with his own breath. O what life God’s breath will bring to you! 
But the likeness ends here For God’s bounty is much greater than the butcher’s. God’s blows don’t bring death but eternal life. He gives the wealth of Solomon to a single ant. He gives the treasure of both worlds to all who ask. 
He gives and gives yet does not startle a single heart. I've traveled to all ends of the earth and have not found anyone like Him. 
Who can match Him? Who can hold a candle to His glory? Silence already! He gives us the wine to taste, not to talk about. . . . 
He gives to taste.  He gives to taste.  He gives to taste.
  
 
 
I merged so completely
with my Beloved,
and was so fused with Him
that I became Love
and Beloved became me.
That way, I was saved
from instigation, trials and tribulations.
Yes, with complete mystical union,
Man becomes stranger to his or her Self.
  
 
 
Last night I learned how to be a lover of God: To live in this world and call nothing my own. I looked inward and the beauty of my own emptiness filled me till dawn. It enveloped me like a mine of rubies.Its hue clothed me in red silk. Within the cavern of my soul I heard the voice of a lover crying, “Drink now! Drink now!” I took a sip and saw the vast ocean wave upon wave caressed my soul. The lovers of God dance around And the circle of their steps becomes a ring of fire round my neck. Heaven calls me with its rain and thunder a hundred thousand cries yet I cannot hear.... All I hear is the call of my Beloved.
  
 
  For ages you have come and gone courting this delusion. For ages you have run from the pain and forfeited the ecstasy. So come, return to the root of the root of your own soul. 
Although you appear in earthly form Your essence is pure consciousness. You are the fearless guardianof Divine Light. So come, return to the root of the root of your own soul. 
When you lose all sense of self the bonds of a thousand chains will vanish. Lose yourself completely,Return to the root of the root of your own soul. 
You descended from Adam,
by the pure Word of God, but you turned your sight to the empty show of this world. Alas, how can you be satisfied with so little? So come, return to the root of the root of your own soul. 
Why are you so enchanted by this world when a mine of gold lies within you? Open your eyes and comeReturn to the root of the root of your own soul. 
You were born from the rays of God’s Majesty when the stars were in their perfect place. How long will you suffer from the blows of a nonexistent hand? So come, return to the root of the root of your own soul. 
You are a ruby encased in granite. How long will you deceive us with this outer show? O friend, we can see the truth in your eyes! So come, return to the root of the root of your own soul. 
After one moment with that glorious Friend you became loving, radiant, and ecstatic. Your eyes were sweet and full of fire. Come, return to the root of the root of your own soul. 
Shams-e Tabriz, the King of the Tavern, has handed you an eternal cup, And God in all His glory is pouring the wine. So come! Drink! Return to the root of the root of your own soul.
  
 
  Lord of Beauty, Lord of Grace, Enter my soul like one who enters a garden in bloom. One glance from you and stones turn to rubies. One hint from you and every goal is within reach. 
Come, come, you are the life and salvation of man. Come, come, you are the eye and light of Joseph.Touch my head for your touch removes the darkness of the body. 
Come, come, for you bestow beauty and grace. Come, come, for you are the cure of a thousand ills.Come, come, even though you have never left— come and hear some poetry. 
Sit in the place of my soul, for you are a thousand souls of mine. Begone with your cares and your ancient longings— you are the Beloved! 
If the King did not sit on the throne of this world There would be darkness and confusion. You are joyous and alive by His breath. You move by the power of His love. Now, like an artist, you create.Now, like a servant, you sweep the floor. 
Everything you touch will reach its goal and fly with the wings of an angel. . . . 
But wings cannot carry you to God. Like the mule that carried the Prophet, Only love can carry you there.
  

 

  Be a glass for the Wine of His Love,
in order to deserve the Beloved.
Be pure soul,
give up life for the sake of Beloved's Love.
The knots of your life
can never be untied
without a touch of His Love.
  

Lovers share a sacred decree - to seek the Beloved. They roll head over heels, rushing toward the Beautiful One like 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 Beloved like a dancing stream. At times we are still water held in His pitcher. At times we boil in a pot turning to vapor - that is the job of the Beloved. 
He breathes into my ear until my soul takes on His fragrance. He is the soul of my soul - How can I escape? But why would any soul in this world want to escape from the Beloved? 
He will melt your pride making you thin as a strand of hair, Yet do not trade, even for both worlds, One strand of His hair. 
We search for Him here and there while looking right at Him. Sitting by His side we ask, "O Beloved, where is the Beloved?" 
Enough with such questions! - Let silence take you to the core of life. 
All your talk is worthless When compared to one whisper of the Beloved.

The center leads to love.

Soul opens the creation core.

Hold on to your particular pain.

That too can take you to God.

If the face of your religion
covers the face of His Love.
You are like a donkey
that carries sugar candy on its back
but cannot taste it.
If the mirror shows you your own ugliness
what is the use
of breaking the mirror with your fist?
 

For lovers, the only lecturer is the beauty of the Beloved;

their only book and lecture and lesson is the Face.

They are silent outwardly,

but their penetrating remembrance rises

to the high throne of their Friend.

Their only lesson is enthusiasm, whirling, and trembling,

not the fine points of jurisprudence!

If the Beloved is everywhere,

the lover is a veil,

but when living itself

becomes the Friend,

lovers disappear.

 
On Resurrection Day
God will say,
"What did you do 
with the strength and the energy
that your food gave you
on Earth?
How did you use your eyes?
What did you make with your five senses
while they were dimming and playing out?
I gave you hands and feet as tools
for preparing the ground for planting.
Did you, in the health I gave,
do the plowing?"
You will not be able to stand
when you hear those questions.
You will bend double with shame,
and finally acknowledge the glory.

Then you will turn to the right looking to the prophets
for help, as though to say,
I am stuck in the mud of my life.
Help me out of this!

And they will answer,
those kings,
"The time for helping is past.
The plow stands there in the field.
You should have used it."
Then you will turn to the left, 
where your family is,
and they will say, 
"Don't look at us!
This conversation is between you
and your Creator!"
 

One dervish to another,
 'What was your vision of God's presence?'

I haven't seen anything.

But for the sake of conversation, I'll tell you a story.

God's presence is there in front of me, a fire on the left,

a lovely stream on the right.

One group walks toward the fire, into the fire, another

toward the sweet flowing water.

No one knows which are blessed and which not.

Whoever walks into the fire appears suddenly in the stream.

A head goes under on the water surface, that head

pokes out of the fire.

Most people guard against going into the fire,

and so end up in it.

Those who love the water of pleasure and make it their devotion

are cheated with this reversal.

The trickery goes further.

The voice of the fire tells the truth, saying I am not fire.

I am fountainhead. Come into me and don't mind the sparks.

If you are a friend of God, fire is your water.

You should wish to have a hundred thousand sets of mothwings,

so you could burn them away, one set a night.

The moth sees light and goes into fire.
You should see fire and go toward light.
Fire is what of God is world-consuming.

Water, world-protecting.

Somehow each gives the appearance of the other.
To these eyes you have now

what looks like water burns.
What looks like fire is a great relief to be inside.

You've seen a magician make a bowl of rice

seem a dish full of tiny, live worms.

Before an assembly with one breath he made the floor swarm

with scorpions that weren't there.

How much more amazing God's tricks. 

Generation after generation lies down, defeated, they think,

but they're like a woman underneath a man, circling him.

One molecule-mate-second thinking of God's reversal
of comfort and pain

is better than any attending ritual.
That splinter of intelligence is substance.

The fire and water themselves:

Accidental, done with mirrors.