Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Of Time

Don't even ask how rapidly the hummingbird lives his life.
You can't imagine.  A thousand flowers a day,
a little sleep, then the same again,
then he vanishes.
I adore him.

Yet I adore also the drowse of mountains.

And in the human world, what is time?
In my mind there is Rumi, dancing.
There is Li Po drinking from the winter stream.
There is Hafiz strolling through Shariz, his feet
loving the dust.

I reflect upon Mary today with the words of 3 timeless poets: Li Po 8th century, Rumi 13th century, Hafiz 14th century, and their parchment scribblings now dust in our eyes.

Does thinking of time free you, or bind you?

Li Po - The Old Dust

The living is a passing traveler;
The dead, a man come home.
One brief journey between heaven and earth,
Then, alas! we are the same old dust of ten thousand ages.
The rabbit in the moon pounds the elixir in vain;
Fu-sang, the tree of immortality, has crumbled to kindling wood.
Man dies, his white bones are dumb without a word
While the green pines feel the coming of the spring.
Looking back, I sigh; looking before, I sigh again.
What is there to prize in the life's vaporous glory?

How should the soul not take wings
when from the Glory of God

It hears a sweet, kindly call:
"Why are you here, soul? Arise!"

How should a fish not leap fast
into the sea from dry land

When from the ocean so cool
the sound of the waves reaches its

How should the falcon not fly
back to his king from the hunt

When from the falconer's drum
it hears to call: "Oh, come back"?

Why should not every Sufi
begin to dance atom-like

Around the Sun of duration
that saves from impermanence?

What graciousness and what beauty?
What life-bestowing! What grace!

If anyone does without that, woe-
what err, what suffering!

Oh fly , of fly, O my soul-bird,
fly to your primordial home!

You have escaped from the cage now-
your wings are spread in the air.

Oh travel from brackish water
now to the fountain of life!

Return from the place of the sandals
now to the high seat of souls!

Go on! Go on! we are going,
and we are coming, O soul, 

From this world of separation
to union, a world beyond worlds!

How long shall we here in the dust-world
like children fill our skirts

With earth and with stones without value,
with broken shards without worth?

Let's take our hand from the dust grove,
let's fly to the heavens' high,

Let's fly from our childish behaviour
and join the banquet of men!

Call out, O soul, to proclaim now
that you are rules and king!

You have the grace of the answer,
you know the question as well!

Hafiz - Wake up Winebringer!

Wake up Winebringer! And pour me a glass of wine.
Throw dust on the head of this sad earth man.
I’ve taken off my snazzy blue coat and bare-chested
I clutch this full cup.
Even though the rich or the politicians call us “trash,”
To us their blue blood or fame means nothing.
Give me more wine! All their dust blowing around in the wind of pride
And desire is as worthless as a hole.
The smoke from my burning heart
Gags all those with ignorance as their goal.
My mad heart has a secret
That no one knows.
The Beloved has stolen even the sweet solitude from my heart,
And I am content.
No one who has ever laid eyes on this silver-limbed Cypress,
Would ever go looking in the woods for a cypress again.
“Hafez,” the voice of inner wine will say;
“Be careful what you ask for, you may just get what you want!”


  1. :)
    we are, more or less, each just one molecule
    (a single drop of water in a vast, almost endless ocean of salt water, tears)
    It is hard to see our lives from a distance away that is great enough to be able to recognize, the living, the aliveness is a wave, rolling along.

    it's just that there is a seeming very long time in between each wave hitting the shore. Trust me though, it is no different than the waves we witness crashing here on earth, on any coastline.

    that is maybe a much easier way to portray the concept.

    thank you Lori

  2. :)
    sorry that was kind of random and off topic.

    in regards to time, time are the chains that give me freedom. Time are relative axis as a plane that allows me to feel another dimension, (texture: a feeling) giving this two dimension existence of black and white, almost infinite shades of grey of gray, a virtual color of everything in between total reflections of white and complete absorption not seen as rainbow black.

    Time are aspects of existence that has no boundaries at either end, the uncontainable plane that binds me in a eternal heaven of love and understanding or feels like a never ending hell of hatred from not understanding, often nothing more than the fears that come from misunderstanding.

    Time, that two faced mother plucker who stays one step ahead of me and two steps behind, lest I forget to remember

    (how attractive women look that speak their S's and C's with a specific pitch and whistling hiss sound that sings: I can hear you laughing :)

  3. In the poem "Of Time" , It's supposed to say Shiraz (that's the correct spelling of the name of the city in Iran) not Shariz. Beautiful poem