|No one knows what makes the soul|
wake up so happy!
Maybe a dawn breeze has blown the veil
from the face of God.
A thousand new moons appear.
Roses open laughing.
Hearts become perfect rubies
like those from Badakshan.
The body turns entirely spirit.
Leaves become branches in the wind!
Why is it now so easy to surrender,
even for those already surrendered?
There’s no answer to any of this.
No one knows the source of joy.
A poet breathes into a reed flute,
and the tip of every hair makes music.
Beloved sails down clods of dirt from the roof,
and we take jobs as doorkeepers for him.
(The Source of Joy)
Version by Coleman Barks
“Say I am You”
Art by Jane Bucci