There's a hidden sweetness in the stomach's
emptiness.
We are lutes. No more, no less.

If the soundbox is stuffed full, there is no room
for music.
If the brain and the belly are burning clean with
fasting,

Every moment a new song comes out of the fire.
The fog clears, and new energy makes you run up the
steps before you.
Be emptier and cry like reed instruments cry.
Emptier—write secrets with the reed pen.
When you're full of food and drink, an ugly metal
statue sits where your spirit should.

When you fast, good habits gather like friends who
wish to help.
Fasting is Solomon's ring.
Don't give it to some illusion and lose your power.

But even if you have, if you've lost all will and
control,

They come back when you fast,
Like soldiers appearing out of the ground, pennants
flying above them.
A table descends to your tents, Jesus' table.
Expect to see, when you fast, this table spread with
other food,
better than the broth of cabbages.

  ~Jalal ad-Din Rumi

"Let us have love and more love, a love that melts all opposition, a love that conquers all foes, a love that sweeps away all barriers, a love that aboundeth in charity, large-heartedness, tolerance, and noble-striving, a love that triumphs over all obstacles, a boundless, resistless, sweeping love. Ah me!

Each one must be a sign of love, a sea of love, a centre of love, a sun of love, a star of love, a haven of love, a pearl of love, a palace of love, a mountain of love, a world of love, a universe of love.

Hast thou love? Then thy power is irresistible.

Hast thou sympathy? Then all the stars will sing thy praise!"

~ 'Abdu'l-Baha, Star of the West, VII:17, 19 January 1917, page 171

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.


Kahlil Gibran

Yes, they don't invite me to dinner
They look at me strangely
Like I'm in the zoo
And they've paid to see
I smile
Fake,
Hope it was worth the money
I don't want your
overweight hubby,
Honey,
I'm the goodbye girl
Touch me,


Then leave

She wasn't raised by wolves
But she could have been
The way she howls at the moon
And chases away all men
She wasn't raised by wolves
But you must believe
If you try to get too close
She will bear all of her teeth
It isn't she doesn't trust you
Except it is exactly that
She wasn't raised by wolves
So there's no pack watching her back
She wasn't raised by wolves
But she might have been
To watch her claw and bite at life
Every time she remembers when...
She wasn't raised by wolves
Perhaps she should have been
Maybe she'd sleep more peacefully
Alone inside her den.