I used to look for love in radio songs. Later on, when I thought I was more sophisticated moved on to Rumi poems. A Hafez here a Rilke there. Perhaps, I looked for someone to come along and make me feel better about myself. Possibly, to give me something that was lacking in me. Now, it looks different. Love doesn’t have much to do with “feel good” to me. It’s not a drug. I’m not searching for a “high.” Love has less to do with clever symbols Shocking metaphors. The poems point the way. The path is something else Altogether. I remember The Matrix: “There is a difference between knowing the path and walking the path.” A difference between knowing about the flame Seeing the flame And standing in the midst of the flame Become the flame.
I see love differently now. Not as an emotion. Certainly not a feeling. Love is a death And no one tells you that. You’ve watched my descent Now watch me Rise! —Rumi I’ve lost so much in love. I thought I would lose My heart My identity My will. And I did. Some of those I dropped along the way. Didn’t turn around to pick them up Don’t miss them But mainly I’ve lost other things… Lost My anger My frustration selfishness The “who” I thought I was Died And rose again. I was a seed That had to be crushed Go underground Linger there for a whole winter And then Come up again In the spring Fragrant Tender Rising. I couldn’t flower Until I had gone under ground. My heart was like this too. It had to be broken To open up. There was a death, a breaking, a burying In love But oh… What a rising!
Somewhere I read That the word for Human is related to the word “burying.” Every burying Has a resurrection. Ever winter A spring. What a rising this love is… I’ve gained so much, Not just a partner But a mirror She mirrors God to me All that is lovely Sacred Real Here Now. Yes, there is in love a death. But what no one tells you Is that there is a love Stronger than death. There is a love beyond time Beyond place Where only God is. There is a love that abides Where life and death cannot touch. There is a love So present That it packs a few eternities into every moment. And that, My Beloved Is why You are— This love This Eshq— Is the love Of all eternities. There had to be a death In this love. It turns out what had to die Was not “me” But rather the selfishness The ego. It was all Love all along, all loveliness… The ego blocked it. The ego melted… It’s all lovely now.
Turns out Rumi was right: A lover came to see a beloved He knocked at the door The beloved answered from the inside: “Who is it?” The lover said: “It’s me!” The beloved said: “Go away! There is no room in this heart for two me's!” The lover went away into an exile of agony He was raw Then cooked in the fire of love. He returned Risen Cooked. Knocked again. Once more came the beloved’s voice: “Who is it?” This time the lover said: “It’s you, o beloved!” The Beloved said: “Since you are me, o me, come, enter into me!” Two threads Cannot enter The eye of the needle. So to you, My Belonged The you whom I’ve melted into I say: Praise be to Him alhamdulilah! Who melts us Gives us a rising Beyond time Beyond death SubhanAllah! Glory to Him. There is a death in love but what a rising… Come, friends Let us rise! Come, Beloved Let us hold hands And rise, Rise!