Wooden Walking Stick

Friend, you are Moses. I the wooden

walking stick. Sometimes that simple use.

Other times, a dragon earth-energy.

You decide. There's no time or place in the air

you inhabit. The days you give me
I give back to you.

I have seen your unseeable beauty

and taken report without words to my heart,

which became all eyes with the news.

"Long life to eyes" says my heart now over

and over. Hundreds of candles
search the turning sky.

No bread in the basket, no money;

home, family, work, in shambles,
with your light shining on the ruin.

Crushed in grief's mortar,

let me be the medicine
for other eyes.

What is the soul? Half a leaf.

What is the Heart? A flower opening.

I am not the one speaking here. Even so,
I'll stop. Anything anyone else says is your voice.

~Rumi