Poetry Wednesday: Pruning

It won't be long

before a storm will prune

what is ready to let go.

It will be clean and swift

Be your own storm

~

gunilla norris

~

A Mystic Garden

Poetry Wednesday

Poetry Wednesday: the kindred

Yes, it's Friday, but this poem has been simmering in my heart this week to share for Poetry Wednesday. So, here is my late offering.

 Love is a mystery...something that is difficult to put into words. A connection between two souls...deeper than any temporal appearances, labels or stories we live in this earthly existence.  I've felt this connection in my life...a kinship of souls that is so moving that it's undeniable.  A late night conversation with the Man I Love left me with this sense. I'm thankful to have loved and been loved in this way...My life has been made rich by the presence of kindred souls in whom the Beloved One has pitched his tent.

Thank you Hafiz...

The Woman I Love

Because the Woman I love lives
Inside of you,

I lean as close to your body with my words
As I can--

And I think of you all the time, dear pilgrim.

Because the One I love goes with you
Wherever you go,
Hafiz will always be near.

If you sat before me, wayfarer,
With your aura bright from your many
Charms,

My lips could resist rushing to you and needing
To befriend your blushed cheek,

But my eyes can no longer hide
The  wonderous fact of who
You Really are.

The Beautiful One whom I adore
Has pitched His royal tent inside of you,

So I will always lean my heart
As close to your soul
As I can.

~Hafiz~
Translated by Daniel Ladinsky, The Subject Tonight is Love

Enjoy more poetry from Poetry Wednesday

Poetry Wednesday: Listening...

I've been busy lately; moving, rushing, doing. My mind, too; racing, contemplating, creating. But stillness has been illusive...

Listening

Somehow, I must sit to listen.
Standing implies the readiness for action,
for the executing of the will.
To hear You I must sit down and calm down.

The magpie mind chatters.
It doesn't know about stopping.
How helpless I feel in its automatic firing,
its busy babbling. It is impossible to hear You
as long as I am full of sound.
I turn this helpless prayer toward You.
Help me to be quiet, to sit here
...slowly unknowing everything,
becoming dark, becoming yielding...
just sitting.

Here, without will, let me become willing.
Here, without concepts, help me to know.
Here, without doing, turn me toward usefulness.
Let my heart find its ears in You.
Let the countless cells of my body
open in order to listen,
Let my being come into Your presence
and experience the sound of Your light.
~Gunilla Norris~

Poetry Wednesday