Stephen Crane

A man said to the universe:

"Sir I exist!"

"However," replied the universe,

"The fact has not created in me

A sense of obligation."

Robert Frost

Stephen Crane

In the desert

I saw a creature, naked, bestial,

Who, squatting upon the ground,

Held his heart in his hands,

And ate of it.

I said: "Is it good, friend?"

"It is bitter-bitter," he answered;

"But I like it

Because it is bitter,

And because it is my heart."

Ted Loder

Gentle one,

Holy one,

into an unclenched moment,

a deep breath,

a letting go

of heavy experiences,

of shriveling anxieties,

of dead certainties,

that softened by the silence,

surrounded by the light,

and open to the mystery,

I may be found by wholeness,

upheld by the unfathomable,

entranced by the simple,

and filled with the joy

that is you.

Ghalib

Children....

Children dance until our unfocused adulthood

Splatters its lonely orphanage all over their play to

Make them walk as slowly as we do.
Children laugh until our reasonable stake in pain

overwhelms their smiles into the ground. They never

Stumbled while keeping their eyes upon the sky.
Children wonder until we tell them that stars

Aren’t for wishing,

But burned out long ago and simply fool us like

Mirages twinkling.
Children skip, children joy, children have no hollow to fill

With our disthymic fears that violate their native trust.
Hang the millstone around our necks,

Threaten us with the deepest deeps until we

Let our children play, until we let our children dance,

Until we let our children trust, until we let our children live.
Until we let our child long lost come out to play

Under the sun or moon, twirling in faith, rejoicing at stars,

Giggling, tickling, jesting, hugging as only playground

Children do.

(Anonymous)

Tales From The Masnavi- Rumi

A lover was once admitted to the presence of his mistress, but, instead of embracing her, he pulled out a paper of sonnets and read them to her,describing her perfections and charms and his own love towards her atlength. His mistress said to him, "You are now in my presence, and these lover's sighs and invocations are a waste of time. It is not the part of a true lover to waste his time in this way. It shows that I am not the real object of your affection, but that what you really love is your own effusions and ecstatic raptures. I see, as it were, the water which I have longed for before me, and yet you withhold it. I am, as it were, in Bulgaria, and the object of your love is in Cathay. One who is really loved is the single object of her lover, the Alpha and Omega of his desires. As for you, you are wrapped up in your own amorous raptures, depending on the varying states of your own feelings, instead of being wrapped up in me."The true mystic must not stop at mere subjective religious emotions, but seek absolute union with God. Whoso is restricted to religious raptures is but a man;Sometimes his rapture is excessive, sometimes deficient.The Sufi is, as it were, the "son of the season,"But the pure (Safi) is exalted above season and state.Religious raptures depend on feelings and will,But the pure one is regenerated by the breath of Jesus.

You are a lover of your own raptures, not of me;

You turn to me only in hope of experiencing raptures.

Whoso is now defective, now perfect,Is not adored by Abraham;

he is "one that sets."

Because the stars set, and are now up, now down,

He loved them not; "I love not them that set."

Whoso is now pleasing and now unpleasing

Is at one time water, at another fire.

He may be the house of the moon, but not the true moon;

Or as the picture of a mistress, but not the living one.

The mere Sufi is the " child of the season;

"He clings to seasons as to a father,

But the pure one is drowned in overwhelming love.

A child of any one is never free from season and state.

The pure one is drowned in the light that is not begotten,"

"What begets not and is not begotten" is God.

Go I seek such love as this, if you are alive;

If not, you are enslaved by varying seasons.

Gaze not on your own pictures, fair or ugly,

Gaze on your love and the object of your desire.

Gaze not at the sight of your own weakness or vileness,

Gaze at object of your desire, O exalted one.