of my new book: The Gift, poems by Hafiz the great Sufi master, translations by Daniel Ladinsky. Suzanna had this book available at Teacher Training today and I got so absorbed in it that I almost dropped everything in my very busy day to curl up in a corner and read. On the way home tonight, my car drove itself to Barnes and Noble where I was forced beyond my control to shell out $16.00 that I didn’t have to buy my own copy. Now if only I could go to bed instead of mooning over Hafiz.
Just a love contest
And I never
Now you have another good reason
To spend more time
Where we live
Is no place to lose your wings
So love, love,
In a while
God cuts loose His purse strings,
Gives a big wink to my orchestra,
Does not require
Any more prompting than that
Every instrument inside
IT WILL STRETCH OUT ITS LEG
All the classes you have sat in,
All the money you have paid
Something must be wrong, though,
If your eye still wanders through the streets
Acting like a beggar.
Why not try this:
Let all the fake teachers starve.
Picture one of the great masters
In your mind,
Put your lips against his cheek
Say, keep saying,
“Dear Beloved, pinch me.
I want proof You’re near —
A love-bruise on my rump will do.”
The Friend is an unfathomable well
That knows everything;
Draw from that safe luminous sky.
Stay near this book,
It will stretch out its leg and