Something Inside

(A fav of Mish over at Kindspring.org)

You ask how I speak so confidently
for those I do not know.
Well, in every language
“love” translates the same.
There was never a time
the moon was not loving the wave
in the ancient poetry of sending
away and drawing in.
Raindrop, bucket, ocean—
a single ancestry
poured itself
into every swelling thing.
And now we weep at nothing—
the moan of a chord
the turn of a verse,
the way moonlight falls on a face.
I don’t mean to be didactic, but
something inside longs to be known.
It’s not so difficult to understand
if you sit sweetly in your own fullness.

John Wolf
SUFI Issue 90

Artist Credit: Donia Lilly

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