February 14, 2026

A Bouquet of Rumi

A Valentine's Wish

Exuberant energy
lies dormant
deep within
blooming petals
mesmerizing
in defiance of a perfect still
until

love hypnotizes.
Rumi

A Great Wagon

by Rumi

When I see your face, the stones start spinning!

You appear; all studying wanders.

I lose my place.

Water turns pearly.

Fire dies down and doesn’t destroy.

In your presence I don’t want what I thought

I wanted, those three little hanging lamps.

Inside your face the ancient manuscripts

Seem like rusty mirrors.

You breathe; new shapes appear,

and the music of a desire as widespread

as Spring begins to move

like a great wagon.

Drive slowly.

Some of us walking alongside

are lame!

~

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty

and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study

and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

~

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,

there is a field. I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,

the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase each other

doesn’t make any sense.

~

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

Don’t go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want.

Don’t go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill

where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open.

Don’t go back to sleep.

I would love to kiss you.

The price of kissing is your life.

Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,

What a bargain, let’s buy it.

~

Daylight, full of small dancing particles

and the one great turning, our souls

are dancing with you, without feet, they dance.

Can you see them when I whisper in your ear?

~

They try to say what you are, spiritual or sexual?

They wonder about Solomon and all his wives.

In the body of the world, they say, there is a soul

and you are that.

But we have ways within each other

that will never be said by anyone.

~

Come to the orchard in Spring.

There is light and wine, and sweethearts

in the pomegranate flowers.

If you do not come, these do not matter.

If you do come, these do not matter

I went to my Beloved's House

And knocked on His Door.

God said, 'Who is it?'

I said, 'It is I.'

God said, 'There is no room here for I and You.

Go away!'

God shut the door hard in my face.

I went ahead and began my lifelong journey

Toward the total annihilation of 'I' and Self.

After years of annihilating my own Self into non-existence,

I finally reached the exalted state of non-being.

I went back to my Beloved and knocked.

God said, 'Who is it?'

I said: 'It is You.'

God opened His Door wide for me!

Rumi

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.

Jalaluddin Rumi

.

Look at Love

By Jalaluddin Rumi

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Peter J Hamilton
pjh60004@gmail.com
312-933-2956