“In your light, I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.”
We are the poetry from lovers’ nights that keeps a balanced rhythm, we are the fragrance from morning flowers, we are what only the sky can sense, and we are all that we could ask for. We learn to live with one another, we are planting the first seed in fertile dirt with bare hands and we continue to fill up with love and passion, the pot of life. We are making clay together, with water and with soil, we spin the wheel of fortune and we create what only fire can give the final product. A clay pot that holds the water to help the plants to grow and the feelings to never dry. A rose garden with an arch that keeps shadow for our bodies, that don’t know any better than loving every piece of us. We are together and we build what not winds or rains can ever tear, we made the solid foundation from our dreams, hope, and honesty. We don’t hold chains to keep in place what is not meant to be, but a structure that seems too weak only for those who don’t see what is truly holding it together. We don’t build walls around for neighbors, because we live in peace with ourselves, and what is shown is inspiration and hope for those who failed their hopes and gave up on their dreams. We are building the roof for colder nights, but with the crystal glass to be able to watch the fallen stars every night. We hold hands because we know those prints are matching and they fit, like puzzles. We don’t know any other person who could have done a better choice when everyone left us behind for all the ruins that we’ve been.
“Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.”
We learn to speak and to use words, but no one teaches us how to feel them. There are so much passion and so much hate in words. We trow them way too easy, and can destroy like fire, we sharpen our tongues and we seal them with soft kisses. We read through the line but we can’t see what is right in front of us, the pain and the regrets written on wrinkled skin. We get inspired by beloved ones, and no one knows who makes you stay till midnight to put the rows of words on paper, but everything sounds passionate and that is what readers need. We don’t share our soul’s words, because there is no option, to share in words what you can only feel. We create music and poetry to be closer to that language, but nothing can describe the way lovers look at each other when they can not be together. We read in their eyes, what we could not find in books and we could not listen to any song. The sadness and the love are shining in the light of the moon and sun, and we are left speechless in front of love, without words to start or finish.
“Don’t walk in front of me, I may not follow
Don’t walk behind me, I may not lead.
Just walk beside me and be my friend,
And together we will walk in the ways of HaShem”Unknown
We share moments in time and we create spaces to keep our memories, but our souls live timelessly and don’t need a home, because we are home with one another. We learn to lead or follow, but so less we find ourselves learning how to be friends and appreciate others’ lives walking beside us. We are driven by our ego, from pride or maybe from the unknown, and we are looking to keep the rhythm with each other. We don’t march and we don’t follow rules, but we float above the lust and strong desires. We listen to our souls that speak and see each other, we are seen from the unseen and we hide our passions that keep the balance and gives the tone. When one is the water and the other is the flower we are what can be named loving and poisoning relationship…
“Because of your love
I lost my sobriety
I am intoxicated by the madness of love
In this fog
Have become a stranger to myself
I’m so drunk I’ve lost the way to my house
In the garden, I see only your face from trees and blossoms
I inhale only your fragrance
Drunk with the ecstasy of love
I can no longer tell the difference
Between drunker and drink
Between the lover and beloved”
– DEEPAK CHOPRA – Intoxicated By Love (RUMI poem)
“Take someone who doesn’t keep score,
who’s not looking to be richer, or afraid of losing,
who has not the slightest interest even
in his own personality: he’s free.”
We do not look for a winner and we do not ask the price, the treasure stays in hearts, not in the vault. When we do not look to gain, then we are not afraid to lose. But love is everything, and even though it does not come with an interest, what we lose is more than we could have. We set the hearts free, and we enjoy the moment in the present, as is also called a gift. The moments we live together are longer or are shorter and we build them for a better future. It is like a smartphone from our days, that gives us everything we need to have a comfortable life, that only requires to be charged. We set up first the language that would speak our feelings, then we start adding features. Everything we live we add to the story feed, we store the pictures that keep only the instant not the whole moment. Unfortunately, when a new version comes or the device gets damaged we have to reset all settings and start everything all over. We lose the data, the moments, and what remains is only what we can remember.
“A lover asked his beloved:
Do you love yourself more than you love me?
Beloved replied: I have died to myself and I live for you
I’ve disappeared from myself and my attributes
I am present only for you
I’ve forgotten all my learnings
But from knowing you I’ve become a scholar
I’ve lost all my strength, but from your power I am able
I love myself…I love you
I love you…I love myself”
– Deepak Chopra, Desire (RUMI poem)
I welcome you to follow the tale of that young lady who learned that sometimes everything we build and create with so much passion can get reseted for the factory settings and the next day she continued her journey in her life on Earth …
….continue reading the rest of the tale in PART 40