Listen to the story told by the reed,
of being separated.
"Since I was cut from the reedbed,
I have made this crying sound.
Anyone apart from someone he loves
understands what I say.
Anyone pulled from a source
longs to go back.
At any gathering I am there,
mingling in the laughing and grieving,
a friend to each,
but few will hear the secrets hidden
within the notes. No ears for that.
Body flowing out of spirit,
spirit up from body: no concealing
that mixing. But it's not given us
to see the soul.
The reed flute is fire, not wind.
Be that empty."
Hear the love-fire tangled
in the reed notes, as bewilderment
melts into wine.
The reed is a friend
to all who want the fabric torn
and drawn away.
The reed is hurt and salve combining.
Intimacy and longing for
intimacy, one song.
A disastrous surrender,
and a fine love, together.
Source: The Essential Rumi by Coleman Barks
Contributed by: mattyd