Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Enough Words?

How does a part of the world leave the world?
How can wetness leave water?

Don't try to put out a fire
by throwing on more fire!
Don't wash a wound with blood!

No matter how fast you run,
your shadow more than keeps up.
Sometimes, it's in front!

Only full, overhead sun
diminishes your shadow.

But that shadow has been serving you!
What hurts you, blesses you.
Darkness is your candle.
Your boundaries are your quest.

I could explain this, but it would break
the glass cover on your heart,
and there's no fixing that.

You must have shadow and light source both.
Listen, and lay your head under the tree of awe.
When from that tree, feathers and winds sprout
on you, be quieter than a dove.
Don't open your mouth for even a cooooooo.

When a frog slips into the water, the snake
cannot get it. Then the frog climbs back out
and croaks, and the snake moves toward him again.

Even if the frog learned to hiss,still the snake
would hear through the hiss the information
he needed, the frog voice underneath.

But if the frog could be completely silent,
then the snake would go back to sleeping,
and the frog could reach the barley.

The soul lives there in the silent breath.

And that grain of barley is such that,
when you put it in the ground,
it grows.

Are these enough words,
or shall I squeeze more juice from this?
Who am I, my friend?

-Rumi

Friday, February 17, 2012



He studied his posture
etching figures in his book

as he watched, the people did too
but never spared a look

the people stifled interest
the thoughts that passed were stifled too

he thought; and thought thinking:
not a thing to do.

Well he took a breath;
and when he came to

he realized that he had died
from the world that he once knew.

He sat and watched the goosebumps forming on his skin
basking in the sunlight
and feeling naught within.

He sat and basked,
and felt himself feel

and realized that life is aye
and ever at his heel.

If he could only slow it down
he would surely see
what gift it is to know what is
and what it is to be.

Well he slapped himself across the head
and took a deep long breath
concentrating on his chest
the heaving and the depth;

"What a gift,"

he said

the moment bred

peace and undying rest.


-Joseph Vito Ramirez