when the call comes . . .
Rumi's Ruba'ie or Quatrain #77 seems to have inspired numerous translations, each with their own nuances . . .
let yourself be brushed by amaranth or spicebush while you wander wild allow yourself to be smudged even when there is no smoke
Today the sky is clear, Three birds brush blue wings against it; Their trills sweep across the mountains. Tomorrows clouds drift around, Wisps carrying sheep and dragons into a field Where they dance in ecstatic motion. Next week a dark gathering, I become the pea under a pile of mattresses Struggling to be free of... Continue Reading →
We're time travelers Bound to leap with kangaroos Babes awakening Springing into the Southern Hemisphere tomorrow, where I'll be met by autumn! Thought to share these books that are flying with me. They're by fellow online poetesses, Betty Hayes Albright who I met via blog and Laura Grace Weldon via the world peace poetry postcard... Continue Reading →
In times of furor Walls won’t silence this music These songs of freedom Listen, says the nightingale, Fervor is tempered with grace
Granny serves tea in dainty cups Steel gray hair tied in a loose bun She knits hats for refugees while she sings Her heart occupied with love Steel gray hair tied in a loose bun Despite the weather she does her work Her heart occupied with love She plants seeds with young children Despite the... Continue Reading →
The mourning dove coos Perched high on electric lines Energy transmits Listen, says the nightingale, Power generates within
She envies the fool His follies lead to wisdom Hard earned currency Be still, says the nightingale, In silence sort chaff from grain
Last night he tore down Hard walls enclosing his heart A frightful storm raged Listen, says the nightingale, Grow valor rooted in peace