Friday, July 18, 2014

We no longer see the one who teaches us

Musician, play this moment's music as grace
for those who block our road, grace for

bandits! Musician, you learned this from
a true bandit. I hear the teacher's accent

in the student's art. Musician, turn your
face to absence, because existence is

deceitful and afraid. The soul knows it is
not from here. It feels bound in a body,

yet also knows the pleasure of absence.
Absence is the ocean we swim! Existence, a

fish hook. Anyone caught loses the joy
of freedom. Being nailed to the four

elements is a crucifixion. If you keep
running after your wishes and desires,

that's your crucifixion, be sure of it!
There is a fire in patience that burns

what of you is born to fine ash. Strike
the flint of Sura 100, Honor the one

who loses breath. And, Fire rises
where they walk. These are brave souls,

musician igniting musician. What's the
point of the chess-game world where a

pawn cuts off a king? I walk awkwardly,
but the smoke goes straight up.

Sometimes a pawn makes it to the other
side and redeems a queen. The knight

says, "Your plodding is one or two moves
for us." Judgment Day is closer than

that for everyone, one step away. The
chess king says, "Without me this motion

and figuring mean nothing. The bishop
might as well be a mosquito." Winning

and losing are the same. There's check-
mate in both. We no longer see the one

who teaches us. You could say we've
been checkmated. What happens now?

— Rumi