Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Headline Poem 8/26/14 -- A tribute to Rumi

(Rumi, photo credit Google Image)

Seems everywhere I turn, Rumi is being quoted. He's timeless, a libra, and one of my favorites. Tonight, a tribute to him. 

A tribute to Rumi 

I am the grape waiting to be wine,
red content to be red,
green happily plucked from the vine. 

I am sour. I am sweet. 
I am 
small, dry, wet, full of seeds, 
intoxicating at best, abundant at worst. 

I need serene. 
I need romance. 
I need a handful of dreams,
to be seen and
heard, 
respected for my mind, 
my ideas 
that swirl around the cup that's filled
with revelations that twirl
where colors collide and then 
burst 
on the inside. 

I want a description written about me 
and my different moods and 
different seasons, 
offering up my information using 
echoing language 
that pulls them in with words that linger and swim,
how my ingredients 
make perfect 
additions and sweet combinations
for lunches and dinners, 
and spontaneous late night desserts 
unplanned, 
but that last all night
    until the moon is dizzy and ready for  
        slumber. 

I'd like an alter to rest 
upon, my offering of love 
never undone. Wrapped like a gift,
in never-ending paper made from sacrificial trees. 
I want to drink of myself 
and be pleased 
with the taste,
ripe in all the right places. 

I want to follow leaves and winter coal. 
I want to heat the emptiness in a stove 
of fire and light. 
I want to watch the bread rise inside 
and welcome the knife that cuts its flesh 
for serving, on a platter covered in herbs and vegetable soup, 
soft and filling, 

a perfect fit for fish
or apples, or 
honey stew.