When the music calls to the soul’s hunger
the matzub begins to turn like a shy maiden;
then faster, faster; centrifugal force
will throw him out of kilter, off the dance floor,
if a single thought
takes the balance of his mind..
then, faster – faster – the centre grows stiller, stronger;
while the mind strengthens its own emptiness,
the emptiness that is so full of surrender;
into that great space enters
what the one at the centre of all things
wills;
the blessing,
not to know that, until one knows..
Centrifugal is one of my favourite words. Therefore I love this. I concede that that is not the only reason...... t x
Its been a long time - I've given you time Mr. Shepherd. And I am still unsure of your poetry..
Wonderfully descriptive, and a true depiction of what the loss of concentration will do...throwing one out of kilter, that is. Total concentration....I always wondered how they managed to stay focused.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Music calls to the soul's hunger' is perfect. A bit like the rest of this whirling meditation. love, Allie xxxx