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world in ecstasy?

You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen.Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quite still and solitary. The world will offer freely offer itself to you to be unmasked. It has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.

~Franz Kafka

A favorite here.

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It’s Spring, and this seems appropriate. Ms. Oliver just –– nails it all. the. time. I know when I plant flowers and I witness them bloom, I admit I feel like . maybe kissing someone, if not the flower :-). Now, another book of verse that I believe I must have. ~ KMK

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I know someone who kisses the way
a flower opens, but more rapidly.
Flowers are sweet. They have
short, beatific lives. They offer
much pleasure. There is
nothing in the world that can be said
against them.
Sad, isn’t it, that all they can kiss
is the air.

Yes, yes! We are the lucky ones.

One of my (Oliver ) favorites, discovered “by accident”. It is useful,
I have found also, to read this one aloud, even to yourself. ~KMK

********************************************************

Not anyone who says, “I’m going to be
careful and smart in matters of love,”
who says, “I’m going to choose slowly,”
but only those lovers who didn’t choose at all
but were, as it were, chosen
by something invisible and powerful and uncontrollable
and beautiful and possibly even
unsuitable —
only those know what I’m talking about
in this talking about love.

from: Felicity: Poems by Mary Oliver, Penguin Press.

Until you’ve found pain, you won’t reach the cure
Until you’ve given up life, you won’t unite with
the supreme soul
Until you’ve found fire inside yourself, like the Friend,
You won’t reach the spring of life, like Khezr.
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

I love finding poems and poets on WordPress. I have dabbled in Haiku; it’s such a simple form. Simple, not necessarily easy tho. It’s a fun thing to play with.

This poem nails the Spring and April month. 🙂 . Almost makes it a . bit easier to endure it. Everyone is restless in this month as blooms of flowers are starting slowly. BLOOM! an umbrella, a flower, a poet!

*******************************

Wet season arrives

with muddy hems and soft groans—

black umbrellas bloom.

What will
our children do in the morning?
Will they wake with their hearts wanting to play,
the way wings
should?
Will they have dreamed the needed flights and gathered
the strength from the planets that all
men and women need to balance
the wonderful charms of
the earth
so that her power and beauty does not make us forget our own?
I know all about the ways of the heart – how it wants to be alive.
Love so needs to love
that it will endure almost anything, even abuse,
just to flicker for a moment. But the sky’s mouth is kind,
its song will never hurt you, for I sing those words.
What will our children do in the morning
if they do not see us
fly?
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

on a RUMI roll on a 40 degree day here in Chicago land. ~KMK

What will
our children do in the morning?
Will they wake with their hearts wanting to play,
the way wings
should?
Will they have dreamed the needed flights and gathered
the strength from the planets that all
men and women need to balance
the wonderful charms of
the earth
so that her power and beauty does not make us forget our own?
I know all about the ways of the heart – how it wants to be alive.
Love so needs to love
that it will endure almost anything, even abuse,
just to flicker for a moment. But the sky’s mouth is kind,
its song will never hurt you, for I sing those words.
What will our children do in the morning
if they do not see us
fly?

~Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi