Two weeks before Jay died, we talked about this Rumi poem.
The breeze at dawn
has secrets to tell you
Don’t go back to sleep.
You must ask
for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth
across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch
The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.
Jay and I each spoke of the areas in our lives where we fell asleep and vowed to try to do better. We shopped online and found this. He said he wanted to purchase the print and place it in the house he was soon to move in. However, the move never occurred.
The print is on my wall instead, as my own Jay H. Casler memorial.
The breeze at dawn
has secrets to tell you
Don’t go back to sleep.
You must ask
for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth
across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch
The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.
Jay and I each spoke of the areas in our lives where we fell asleep and vowed to try to do better. We shopped online and found this. He said he wanted to purchase the print and place it in the house he was soon to move in. However, the move never occurred.
The print is on my wall instead, as my own Jay H. Casler memorial.
My Christmas Eve wish is to listen more often to that secret hush found in the dawn’s breeze.
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1 comments:
Rumi's great, but that goes without saying. Reading this poem reminds me of one of my favourite short-stories, titled "The Broken Wings" by Kahlil Gibran. I quite like your blog, and hope you dont mind if I poke my head in and squizzy around for a bit every now and then :)
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