That's what I am. 
Where is the middle
when will it grow still enough to know
My soul, you are my true eyes.
What are eyes in the invisible visible I am?
Then what do I call you?
SILENCE.
When will I see myself as I am?
Put mystery in the middle.
in the middle I am?
And this silver-tongued stream in me -
the streaming stillness I am?
The ocean
I am drowned in the ocean I am -
shoreless, boundless, wonderful.
Don't look for me in this world or that world.
Both worlds are lost in the world I am -
words can't name what I am.
Settle in the nowhere everywhere I am.
Gold mine I am.
Rumi
1 comment:
True silence has become so rare, at least in my daily round. As I sat outside yesterday stitching, I felt that more than any design, or special stitch, the thing I was trying to instill in the cloth was the relative silence, the flowers, the bees...peace. I worry that this is something that whose who are young now will never know. I hope to pass it along to them in the cloth. I am in awe of your beautiful work. Thank you.
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