2.12.2007

no, not that kind of love.


this is love: to fly toward a secret sky,
to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.
first, to let go of live.
in the end, to take a step without feet;
to regard this world as invisible,
and to disregard what appears to be the self.

heart, i said, what a gift it has been
to enter this circle of lovers,
to see beyond seeing itself,
to reach and feel within the breast.

-rumi

2 comments:

Blondie said...

My favorite poet is Rilke. Melts my heart. But mostly when translated by Stephen Mitchell.

Anonymous said...

I've had a book of love poems by Rumi since 9th grade. I've probably read it a thousand times. The pages are worn, sometimes torn, and the cover is falling off.

But everytime I open it, I find something new.

So good chatting with you the other day - I love you. And, just between you and me - I probably always will.

-Jess