ONE WHISPER OF THE BELOVED.

Lovers share a sacred decree –
to seek the Beloved.
They roll head over heels,
rushing toward the Beautiful One
like a torrent of water.

In truth, everyone is a shadow of the Beloved –
Our seeking is His seeking,
Our words are His words.

At times we flow toward the Beloved
like a dancing stream.
At times we are still water
held in His pitcher.
At times we boil in a ***
turning to vapor –
that is the job of the Beloved.

He breathes into my ear
until my soul
takes on His fragrance.
He is the soul of my soul –
How can I escape?
But why would any soul in this world
want to escape from the Beloved?

He will melt your pride
making you thin as a strand of hair,
Yet do not trade, even for both worlds,
One strand of His hair.

We search for Him here and there
while looking right at Him.
Sitting by His side we ask,
“O Beloved, where is the Beloved?”

Enough with such questions! –
Let silence take you to the core of life.

All your talk is worthless
When compared to one whisper
of the Beloved.

Ode 442 trans. by Jonathan Star and Shahram Shiva
A Garden Beyond Paradise: The Mystical Poetry of Rumi

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(Rumi Poetry)          (Rumi)
*-Found this gem by the mystical master in a labyrinthine corner of the web. All credits and thanks to the translators who put it there and cared!!.-MAX CHELUR.

She flies random beautiful,seeking me, my sweet nectar,
Thats but her nature, seek the juice, the honey of my heart,
I crane and bend so she may get, all she wants,stay a bit longer,
Dip into my soul, feel the love,of my earth, my roots below,
Impatient wings fluttering, the sucker scraping my valves.
Fluttering and falling are petals,pain shooting to the roots,
Weak flowery embrace ineffective, off she flies, free, gay and filled,
I let her go, stoic, my roots burned, but gladly still a flower,still me!

MAX CHELUR.

I question Never the Dark Reaper,
Neither His claim final, on my Dregs.
At the back of my mind He sits calm,
Brooding on His last,Lousy Victory.

I know him not, But I grant Him,
My final sleep,The last Weary bones.
Life is Mine.Mine are all values sacred,
Mine is this Heart,and all that flows out.

His Reality makes Me keen,so Aware!
Of my time,my deeds and My Pleasures!
He goads my SELF, to fly so high and true,
So beyond His clutch, an Infinite Being!

Bright and most Human am I, in His shadow,
Pains hurt less, Joys feel a million fold more!
Loves are Loveliest, feelings felt true and sharpest,
I revel grimly wise, in total abandon, truly Free!

Max Chelur.

THE ONE.
Were a cosmic One, a whole, and shall be all again,
Cycles are births, lives and deaths, dancing around the one.
Here betwixt a myriad, of real apparent, of unseen change,
To be One is to be ever born, to be a broken many to die.
Be you, be me, be truth, The One can change never.
Once were starry dust atomic, and now cold hard men.
If the real is here and now, so was it there and then.
Nebulous gases and fumes to selves,egos and dollars.
Universal being to visas,borders and fragmented creeds
Evolution, so terribly wonderful, Monkeys to gods,
Mindless to rational, primitive to humans super.
Proud of mind, material, empty of heart, dead of souls?
Aimless we journeyed, still do, reality being change universal.
On shall we go, to newer realities, frontiers unknown?
A billion light years, other earths, unknown worm holes?
Carrying the seedling precious, of the never changing One.
Eternal, kindling faintly under the burdens unreal,
A licking flame, in us all, singeing now and then, reminding,
You, me, us are the One, lest we forget, the unchanging One Real.
All time, all forms, any space and in an ever changing all.. One are we.

MAX CHELUR.