You have gone to the secret world.
Which way is it?
You broke the cage and flew.
You heard the drum that calls you home.
You left this humiliating shelf,
this disorienting desert
where we are given wrong directions.
What use now a crown?
You have become the sun.
No need for a belt.
You have slipped out of your waist.
I have heard that near the end
you were eyes looking at soul.
No looking now.
You live inside the soul.
You are the strange autumn rose
that led the winter wind in by withering.
You are rain soaking everywhere
from cloud to ground.
No bother of talking.
and sweet sleep beside the Friend.
The Glance: Songs of Soul-Meeting
by Jalaloddin Rumi,
Traslated by Coleman Barks
Art by Rassouli