Sunday, February 28, 2016


God loved, but he did not really understand love.

The powerful, even the Greatest Power,
Can never grasp the weakness of the weak
Until they become weak.

Until the Lord of Heaven and Earth
Creator of Worlds and Words
Whose every Command was carried out
Became a single, helpless infant
He never truly understood weakness.

Before that moment, he felt that command would rule.
Until he was in a place where command was meaningless.

He could command his body
He could create with his mind
He could form atoms and call up mountains
But he could not control his arm without practice.

It would take months before he could walk.
Years before a single word was clear enough to be understood without interpreted.

It was not until the weakness of a body
Limited the Supreme of Supremes

That the kingdom truly belonged to the poor.

At that moment, Love wasn’t just an idea
It was reality.

Sunday, February 14, 2016

Rumi on Valentines Day

Rumi is the true poet of love, bringing the spiritual language of the ancients and the passionate desires of erotic poetry into one being.

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.

Intellectuals plan their repose;
lovers are ashamed to rest.
The lover is always alone.
even surrounded by people;
like water and oil, he remains apart.

We must remember that Islam is not primarily violence and power and law.  For millions of people, Islam is love and Rumi is their spokesperson.

This is a simple truth—whatever you love, you are.


When the rose is gone and the garden faded
you will no longer hear the nightingale's song.
The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil.
The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing.
If love withholds its strengthening care,
the lover is left like a bird without care,
the lover is left like a bird without wings.
How will I be awake and aware
if the light of the Beloved is absent?
Love wills that this Word be brought forth.


Love is the bridge between you and everything

Rumi is both Muhammad and Jesus, both strict monotheism and an ethic of compassion.

O Love, You who have been called by a thousand names,
You who know how to pour the wine
into the chalice of the body,
You who give culture to a thousand cultures,
You who are faceless but have a thousand faces

Rumi is what fundamentalism—whether of Islam or those opposed to Islam—cannot understand.  The narrow-minded cannot understand the poet.  But without poetry, the law-giver, the scientist cannot seek truth.

Those who don't feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don't drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don't want to change,

let them sleep.

This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
I you want to improve your mind that way,

sleep on.


In this earth
In this soil
In this pure field
Let’s not plant any seed
Other than seeds
Of compassion and love.


A lifetime without Love is of no account