“I See The Face” (Rumi)

I see the face that was my home. My loving says, I will let go of everything for that.

My soul begins to keep rhythm, as if music were playing.

My reason says, What do you call this cypress-energy that straightens what was bent double?

All things change in this presence. Armenians and Turks no longer know which is which.

Soul keeps unfolding inward. The body leaves the body.

A wealth you cannot imagine flows through you.

Do not consider what strangers say. Be secluded in your secret heart-house, that bowl of silence.

Talking, no matter how humble-seeming, is really a kind of bragging. Let silence be the art we practice.