Admit Something

The below is a link to a Hafiz poem of mine that has become rather famous: “With That Moon Language.” It first appeared in my Penguin anthology, Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices From The East And West. 

http://www.theprovinceofjoy.com/?p=427. 

That book, published in 2002, is now considered something of a classic, and is part of the spiritual literary landscape around the world. Each of the twelve “From the East And West” have twenty-five poems in the book and up to three pages of biography about their remarkable lives. The book includes work by Rumi; Hafiz; Rabia; Mira; Kabir; St. Francis of Assisi; Meister Eckhart; St. Thomas of Aquinas; St. Catherine of Siena; St. Teresa of Avila; St. John of the Cross; and Tukaram.

I came across the aforementioned website in searching for this Hafiz poem. I first discovered this website back in April of this year. Hundreds of my published poems from my seven books with Penguin get posted like this— and even little films made of the poems. I like the annotation, as it were, that was added to the poem on this link.  

The first two words in the poem are: “Admit something.” So that is where this blog title comes from.

And in thinking more about this— I think all of the twelve greats from the East and West in this book could have written this poem— though they probably would not have used the word: “cops” in it; that is my playful rendering. And this poem is interesting to me, in that it has a Lao Tzu quality and utility to it. 

That is: Lao Tzu struck me, as, in a part, a genius social reformer. He offered ideas about ways to live and interact with others that would then enrich the doer, and enrich one's family and society. Lao Tzu struck me as knowing that all is really physics at play; our psychological, emotional, physical, and spiritual states are almost always the result of mixing certain ingredients, ie. experiences, together. And then there is an inherent natural response; the moving cart wheel sows seeds. Aka: whatever you do or think ... there is a reaction that affects. 

I think all of the twelve in this book are brothers and sisters to Lao Tzu and Buddha. All twelve were the personification of a golden moving cart wheel ... that hundreds of years latter is still sowing seeds the bounty from which can nourish us. The great ones, the true saints, only want to help us— and can find very creative ways to do that— like in an exceptional, unique poem. A great poem is an alchemy stone that can help turn the eye gold with loving, and so encourage us with that “sweet moon language” we crave from others. 

But there is a secret in reading good poetry, and allowing it to benefit you more. Which is: to read it slowly and out loud. Both Rumi and Hafiz endorse that understanding. 

Rumi says: “Being in a hurry drops the key on the ground to a door I want you to enter. If you read my words slowly and out loud that will help to pick the lock.” 

Pick the lock meaning: free you, help your heart, and feet to dance more!

Hafiz seems to go even further when he says: “No one can read my words out loud in a tender loving voice, and not narrow the difference, not narrow the gap, between you and God.”

Not narrow the difference, narrow the gap… between you and the Sun.

I guess that is what the evolutionary process and all life is really about. And our every movement and sound, an attempt to know beauty and freedom more intimately— and as our own self. To enter more the province of Joy— the blessed ecstatic wonder— which is our true house, our truest way of being.

There is a rendering of a Meister Eckhart poem at this same website: “The Wind Will Show You Its Kindness,” found on page 93 in Love Poems From God. 

And there is more Hafiz verse one can then click on at that link, called: “Beautiful Creature.” And hey! Hey, that is you! 

In closing I wanted to say: it seems my books are becoming historic, and that I should do all I can to protect and preserve them, and to properly credit them. Well, for the book titled: Love Poems from God, that credit would be: 

I want to thank my very, very dear teacher Eruch Byramshaw Jessawala, with whom I spent hundreds of intimate (platonic) hours in India over a 12 year stretch. I walked with him alone in the early mornings, and then again at night. And Eruch, one day out of the total blue (as he so seemed able to do), asked me about this book before I ever said anything to him about it (but I did have the book in mind).

We discussed the book— he wanted to know whom I intended to use for these “Twelve Sacred Voices.” Then in a profound way, he gave me the title: Love Poems from God. It really seemed like he sealed the book into heaven when he did that, or sealed heaven into the book. And I think Eruch knew God as few have. He was truly a chosen one, though most always appeared astoundingly simple and grounded.