My Familiar Dream

I often have this dream, strange, penetrating,
Of a woman, unknown, whom I love, who loves me,
And who’s never, each time, the same exactly,
Nor, exactly, different: and knows me, is loving.

Oh how she knows me, and my heart, growing

Clear for her alone, is no longer a problem,
For her alone: she alone understands, then,
How to cool the sweat of my brow with her weeping.

Is she dark, blonde, or auburn? – I’ve no idea.
Her name? I remember it’s vibrant and dear,
As those of the loved that life has exiled.

Her eyes are the same as a statue’s eyes,
And in her voice, distant, serious, mild,
The tone of dear voices, those that have died.

-My Familiar Dream by Paul Verlaine (Poèmes Saturniens: Mélancholia VI), Translated by A. S. Kline

Like This...

"If anyone asks you
how the perfect satisfaction
of all our sexual wanting
will look, lift your face
and say,

Like this.

When someone mentions the gracefulness
of the nightsky, climb up on the roof
and dance and say,

Like this.

If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is,
or what "God’s fragrance" means,
lean your head toward him or her.
Keep your face there close.

Like this.

When someone quotes the old poetic image
about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
slowly loosen knot by knot the strings
of your robe.

Like this.

If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,
don’t try to explain the miracle.
Kiss me on the lips.

Like this. Like this.

When someone asks what it means
to "die for love," point
here.

If someone asks how tall I am, frown
and measure with your fingers the space
between the creases on your forehead.

This tall.

The soul sometimes leaves the body, the returns.
When someone doesn’t believe that,
walk back into my house.

Like this.

When lovers moan,
they’re telling our story.

Like this.

I am a sky where spirits live.
Stare into this deepening blue,
while the breeze says a secret.

Like this.

When someone asks what there is to do,
light the candle in his hand.

Like this.

How did Joseph’s scent come to Jacob?

Huuuuu.

How did Jacob’s sight return?

Huuuu.

A little wind cleans the eyes.

Like this.

When Shams comes back from Tabriz,
he’ll put just his head around the edge
of the door to surprise us

Like this."

-Rumi

Speak To Me

Oh Great Goddess with thousand and one faces reaching through the dense matter to bring gifts to the broken and weary,


Speak to me through the language of no words
Speak to me through the sound of music and the aroma of the sacred lotus
Speak to me through the hidden colors of the rainbow
Speak to me through the spirit of the dawn
Speak to me through the language of no words
Speak to me through the language of no words 
Speak to me through the language of no words


As I am yours... You are mine.


One like the morning star
One like the child that dances to the rhythm of the rising sun 
We shall be one
And I shall be GONE

One

This is from the first time that I experienced bliss (three weeks of absolute intoxication)
Fear... no more
Agony… no more
Reason… no more than a slave
For the child that dances to the rhythm of the sun 
And for the two that become one

Inertia… no more
Pain… no more
Separation… no more
For the child that dances to the rhythm of the sun
And for the two that become one

Merged in bliss and tranquility
Merged in love and ecstasy
Merged in the golden dance of intoxication

Two… no more
Two… no more
For the one that found the heart of the sun
For the one that is no more two… but ONE

And for the one that is no more… but GONE