These Beautiful Love Games

These Beautiful Love Games

by Hafiz


Young lovers wisely say,
"Let's try it from this angle,
Maybe something marvelous will happen,

Maybe three suns and two moons
Will roll out
From a hiding place in the body
Our passion has yet to ignite.

Old lovers say,
"We can do it one more time,
How about from this longitude
And latitude--

Swinging from a rope tied to the ceiling,

Maybe part of God
Is still hiding in a corner of your heart
Our devotion has yet to reveal."

Bottom line:

Do not stop playing
These beautiful
Love
Games.

Sometimes it costs something...

I'm reconfiguring my life. Reorganizing. Rewriting my story. Somehow, along the way, I lost the golden thread--the center, the heart, the place where I am held in Love. I am tearing through layers, looking for it. Digging, digging, digging...throwing aside the layers of detritus that have accumulated. I know it's there, and I know it's worth the pain to get back to it. There are losses, but I know the truth is in there. There is effort and pain and mess and splinters and bruises and yes, pain.

But it is all worth it. Because this--this messy, painful, confusing, and sometimes destructive re-memberment--this is life. And I have missed breathing deep. I have missed lying under the stars and knowing I am part of something bigger, something to which I belong. No more numbness, no more anesthetization, no more walking dead.

It hurts to be resurrected, but it--Life--is worth it. Love is worth it. I am worth it.

Suddenly it's all Mystery

sometimes it all swirls
and nothing is clear
and i remember how much
i dislike ambiguity.
and then
it turns
again
and suddenly
it's all Mystery
and rather than fear
i feel a strange longing
to dance in the shadow
of change.

Strange Weather

It flies but it does not land.
Yesterday I was sweating.
Now in the halo of the street lamp I see the sky falling.
It could be ash
or bits of cloud.
But it isn't.
It's winter in May.
Snow.

After the Storm

Calm, heavy and humid, but calm.
Outside, everything is different.
Nothing is in its place.
The leaves are stripped from the trees,
but even the bare branches look lovely.
So many things are knocked askew.
Nothing is the same.
Still, I breathe deeply and stand again
on the firm ground.

It's Been a Long Time

The blue went away for a while. Or perhaps I did. At least, I forgot to notice the beauty. But I am coming awake again. Struggling awake by casting off blinders and chains. I see the sky. It seems far away but I remember. I dare to see the blue peeking out in and around me. And in it, I remember God.

I gave myself away. It's hard to believe it's been two years since I was here. And today I stumbled upon this place and I remembered. There once was sanctuary and beauty and love and joy. There once was the deep blue confidence that all was well. Now the blue is fragile and pale, but I hold it in my hand. A feather. A root. A blossom. I remember... "You are not the wave, you are the whole ocean." Dive into the blue. Dive in.

Christmas Comes in Moments

I was beginning to fear that I wouldn't feel it at all--that I'd have to just go through the motions. But last night, when the harp played "O Holy Night," something began to be born in me.

O Holy night,
O Holy child,
O Holy family,
O Holy silence,
O Holy faces,
O Holy yearning,
O Holy laughter,
O Holy hope,
O Holy one,
O Holy Christmas.

Amen.