"Willing Slaves" .....! by Rumi

From deep within my heart
I always catch
the scent of my Beloved.
How can I help but
follow that fragrance?

Last night I was walking through Love's garden
where a glimmer of my soul
became a teeming river of light!
Laughing roses sprang up along the banks.
Dazzling waters rolled past the thorns of being
with speed enough to elude the sword of death.
Every tree and blade of grass danced in the meadow.

But to an eye without this vision,
all seemed plain and ordinary.
Suddenly a great cypress shot up from the ground!
The whole garden roared with delight -
the jamines exploded,
the broad-leafed trees clapped their hands.

A face of fire,
A cup of fire,
A heart of fire -
all were blazing with joy.
Surrounded by flames, my soul called out,
"O God, where shall I run?"

In the world of Oneness
there is nothing but yourself,
there is no room for counting.
But in the world of things
there is so much counting.
You may count a thousand apples in your hand -
If you want them all to be one,
make applesauce.
You may count a thousand grapes in your hand -
If you want the precious wine
crush them all together.

The message behind the words
is the voice of the heart.
The source of all activity
is that utter stillness.

Now Beloved is in the royal seat
and all my rhymes
have lined up like willing slaves.

~ Rumi

-- Version by Jonathan Star
"Rumi - In the Arms of the Beloved "
Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, New York 1997