Where Do You Think You Will Be?

I am sitting on a mountain.

I am casting shadows into the sky.

I did not invite it but the sun has come

And is now playing tag with my feet.

I am whispering to clouds today,

“Watch out for my shoulders,”

For I wish no harm

To all my soft friends.

Where do you think you will Be

When God reveals Himself

Inside of you?

I was so glad to hear

That every pillow in this world

Will become stuffed with

My soul and beard.

I am sitting on a mountain range.

I am a precious body of living water

Offered to the earth

From Light’s own hands.

Why ever talk of miracles

When you are destined to become

Infinite love.

Still, the Final Grace was left:

For all of existence and Hafiz to blend

And to find that I am every pillow

Offering comfort

To each mind and

Foot.

In a Handful of God

Poetry reveals that there is no empty space.

When your truth forsakes its shyness,
When your fears surrender to your strengths,
You will begin to experience

That all existence
Is a teeming sea of infinite life.

In a handful of ocean water
You could not count all the finely tuned
Musicians

Who are acting stoned
For very intelligent and sane reasons

And of course are becoming extremely sweet
And wild.

In a handful of the sky and earth,
In a handful of God,

We cannot count
All the ecstatic lovers who are dancing there
Behind the mysterious veil.

True art reveals there is no void
Or darkness.

There is no loneliness to the clear-eyed mystic
In this luminous, brimming
Playful world.

Carrying God

No one can keep us from carrying God

Wherever we go.

No one can rob His Name

From our heart as we try to relinquish our fears

And at last stand -- Victorious.

We do not have to leave him in the mosque

Or church alone at night;

We do not have to be jealous of tales of saints

Or glorious masts, those intoxicated souls

Who can make outrageous love with the Friend.

We do not have to be envious of our spirits’ ability

Which can sometimes touch God in a dream.

Our yearning eyes, our warm-needing bodies,

Can all be drenched in contentment

And Light.

No one anywhere can keep us

From carrying the Beloved wherever we go.

No one can rob His precious Name

From the rhythm of my heart --

Steps and breath.

Old Sweet Beggar - Hafiz

This

Path to God

Made me such an old sweet beggar.

I was starving until one night

My love tricked God Himself

To fall into my bowl.

Now Hafiz is infinitely rich,

But all I ever want to do

Is keep emptying out

My emerald filled

Pockets

Upon

This tear stained.

World.

In a Handful of God

In a Handful of God



Poetry reveals that there is no empty space.

When your truth forsakes its shyness,
When your fears surrender to your strengths,
You will begin to experience

That all existence
Is a teeming sea of infinite life.

In a handful of ocean water
You could not count all the finely tuned
Musicians

Who are acting stoned
For very intelligent and sane reasons

And of course are becoming extremely sweet
And wild.

In a handful of the sky and earth,
In a handful of God,

We cannot count
All the ecstatic lovers who are dancing there
Behind the mysterious veil.

True art reveals there is no void
Or darkness.

There is no loneliness to the clear-eyed mystic
In this luminous, brimming
Playful world.