November 9

from “A Year with Rumi,” by Coleman Barks


You ask, Why do you cry

with such sweetness all around?


I weep as I make the honey,

wearing the shirt of a bee,

and I refuse to share this suffering.


I play the sky’s harp.

I curl around my treasure like a snake.


You say, What is this I  business?

Friend, I have been a long time away from that.


What you see here is your own reflection.

I am still raw, and at the same time

well-cooked, and burnt to a crisp.


No one can tell if I’m laughing

or weeping. I wonder myself.

How can I be separated and yet in union?


11.9.14

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