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Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

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Oh soul, you worry too much.

You have seen your own strength.

You have seen your own beauty.

You have seen your golden wings.

Of anything less, why do you worry?

You are in truth the soul, of the soul, of the soul.

– Rumi

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It lights the whole sky

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Absorbed in this world, you’ve made it your burden.
Rise above this world. There is another vision.
All your life you’ve paid attention to your experiences, but never to your Self.
Are you searching for your Soul? Then come out of your prison.
Leave the stream and join the river that flows into the Ocean.
It will not lead you astray.
Let the beauty you seek be what you do.

~Rumi

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Al-Junayd said, I heard As-Sarree As-Saqatee say:

كل يوم قد مضى لا تجده ٭ فإذا كنت به فامتجد

“Every day that has passed by, you will not find anymore

So if you are upon one (now, i.e., another day), then treat it greatly.”

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On Pain


Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

~ Khalil Gibran

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On Children

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

~ Khalil Gibran

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