Have you heard the music that no fingers enter into?
Far inside the house
What is the sense of leaving your house?
Suppose you scrub your ethical skin until it shines,
but inside there is no music,
Mohammed's son pores over words, and points out this
but if his chest is not soaked dark with love,
The Yogi comes along in his famous orange.
But if inside he is colorless, then what?
Kabir says: Every instant that the sun is risen,
if I stand in the temple, or on a balcony,
in the hot fields, or in a walled garden,
my own Lord is making love with me.
No alcohol was used in the making of this blog. Created in the tradition of divine intoxication made famous by Rumi, Tagore, and other lovers of the Beloved.
Adria Estribou is a freelance writer and editor in Hawaii. She is in her third decade of meditation, this time around. She delights in words almost as much as she loves silence.