Monday, April 11, 2011

Professor William Chittick interview with Press TV

Quranic origins of Sufism

The rain






I soaked the saffron in the hot water
To color my basmati for the guests I wait
When the rain begin to fall
All petals of the white roses felt
Beneath my feet

But I never stepped them to squeeze their mystery
They remain silent
I remained silent
But I colored them red
And put the star the cross and the crescent in their heart
And kept the diamond to save in the heart of the lotus
The Amen for the rose
The Oum for the lily

The green gown



He came naked
While encroaching the grass leafs, he
Left the footsteps shining emerald in the wet soil
The moon was full and the Jupiter
Is so close to Earth?

Tonight I undress
I’m naked; sleeping in old celestial nuptials
Feathers of goose disperse in the air
And in my crown the one of peacock
Waves the air and spreads the fragrance
Of the last breath of the killed beauty

I found the green gown of him
He was semi Angel
An eternal voyager passing through
the tunnels of the cosmos
Wanted to unify the spirits
But I was lost in earthly sins
And remain Human

Friday, April 08, 2011

Hidden in the White Roses

Hidden in the White Roses





open my chest if you want to see the rod of heaven's river, while it strains in its bed,
where the white roses swim…




The hunger for beauty created canyons of longing for a quantum of moment.
Again leaving is telling me thunder as melodeon, quiver of veins and bones,
while I come to Thy meeting embarrassedly hide life's broken toy, buried in human darkness; Alas you know my pains, tears in blood percolated as black pressed grapes
While I swirled in the whirlpool of “I”-s, seeking for the spark of the of Your sight
Remained deaf for the multitude of “THEM”, and the multitude of “US”
The moon is full, the moonlight feeds me while I listen lullabys of Gabriel
To sleep the thirsty souls; the starmist flirts to my appearance as it wishes to drop its mercy, at the pain caused by human poison.
These words are arguments of the Threshold of the other side where the describable forms and the audible voices disappear, and the tongue knotted in nine knots.
The eye is stopping the sight to store its image in my consciousness.
Behold oh…”I” of the “US” while we rejoice within the White Roses and while we lick the pearly dews at dawn, and we smell the distant Neroli at dusk
While we celebrate life as cosmic minute that lasts for eternity and a day more.