Sometimes a phrase or verse absolutely captivates me; it’s just that fabulous.  It gets me thinking, the wheels turning, and I must, must, must share.

This week, it’s Rumi.  From the Soul of Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks. For some reason, I can’t seem to format the title with the rest of the poem.

I’ve had worse days.

Not Here

 

There’s courage involved if you want

to become truth.  There is a broken- 

open place in a lover.  Where are

those qualities of bravery and sharp 

compassion in this group?  What’s the

use of old and frozen thought?  I want 

a howling hurt.  This is not a treasury

where gold is stored; this is for copper. 

We alchemists look for talent that

can heat up and change.  Lukewarm 

won’t do. Halfhearted holding back,

well-enough getting by?  

Not here.

This is the essence of writing, for me.  And, as I’ve recently discovered, the essence of life.

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