! In The Spirit Of Rumi - 7

Rating: 2.2

‘My Beloved,
what can I give you of myself,
that I have not given? ’

My Beloved said

‘O my dearest one,
in all places, at all times,
remember Me.’

‘O My Beloved,
how can I not do that? ’

* * *

In tears, I returned to My Beloved
and said

‘O my dearest one,
a week has passed, and the world
pressed hard upon me…

‘The next day, I remembered You
three times each hour;
the second day, I remembered You
but once an hour;
on the third day, I remembered You
in some hours, once; some twice;
some not at all… and so it went…

But O My Beloved,
each morning as I woke
I remembered through my tears
how I had forgotten You…’

My Beloved said

‘In the remembering of the forgetting
there was a feast of sweetest honey for Me,
hiding like a new young bride
laughing with her bridegroom,
laughing with her eyes on Him,
in the silken tent of love.’

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Melanie Emiko 24 March 2007

Beautiful. Perfect. Classic. And yes, in the remembering of the forgetting--is remembering indeed.

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