I could not have imagined Jerusalem

Jerusalem archwayI could not have imagined you, Jerusalem.

The colour of your stones, and of the land

And of the terraced hillsides, and of the desert,

Was yellow ochre tinged with white,

With lemon yellow, and vermilion.

But that was just the detail.

 

The essence was the might, the mightiness,

The peacefulness, the power,

The deep and hidden majesty,

Of four eternal spirits mingled.

Of Adam, Moses, Jesus, and Muhammad.

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I remember

I remember the trees of my childhood,
Elm trees that are no longer there -
I remember how they made me feel good
When now I fall into despair.

I remember my school and its teachers
As a place that was happy and kind -
I remember the summer sun breezes
In a world that now seems to go blind.

I remember the fields and the hillsides,
The butterflies bright patterned wings -
I remember the wind on the bike rides
And how I would play on the swings.

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Hope / going within / a warning

 
The flames of destruction are disguised
As calm and rational good intentions.
It is all very well wanting to shout a warning,
But if you can’t find your voice, no-one will hear you.
You can whisper it to the wind,
Go deep into the well of your own soul,
And hope another will draw up clear water
To wash the world clean.
You can go back, back as far as you can go,
Back to your little child,
Back to the womb,
Back to the germ of your life,
Back beyond that to the vastness from which you came.
If you can whisper from there,
The whole universe, if it picks up your vibration,
Will hear you.
Clive Perrett
 

As the flute…

 
We are as the flute, and the music in us is from thee;
we are as the mountain and the echo in us is from thee.
We are as pieces of chess engaged in victory and defeat:
our victory and defeat is from thee, O thou whose qualities are comely!
Who are we, O Thou soul of our souls,
that we should remain in being beside thee?
We and our existences are really non-existence;
thou art the absolute Being which manifests the perishable.
We all are lions, but lions on a banner:
because of the wind they are rushing onward from moment to moment.
Their onward rush is visible, and the wind is unseen:
may that which is unseen not fail from us!
Our wind whereby we are moved and our being are of thy gift;
our whole existence is from thy bringing into being.
Rumi, Masnavi Book I, 599-607
 

Ramadan

O moon-faced Beloved,
the month of Ramadan has arrived
Cover the table
and open the path of praise

O fickle busybody,
it’s time to change your ways.
Can you see the one who’s selling the halvah?
how long will it be the halvah you desire? Continue reading