From Green Ears, by Rumi.
Your intellect is in fragments, like bits of gold
scattered over many matters. You must scrape them
together, so the royal stamp can be pressed into you.
Cohere, and you’ll be as lovely as Samarcand
with its central market, or Damascus. Grain by grain,
collect the parts. You’ll be more magnificent
than a flat coin. You’ll be a cup
with carvings of the king
around the outside.
The Friend will become bread and springwater for you,
a lamp and a helper, your favorite dessert
and a glass of wine.
Union with that one is grace.
Gather the pieces,
so I can show you what is.
That’s what talking is for,
to help us to be One. Manyness
is having sixty different emotions.
Unity is peace, and silence.
I know I ought to be silent,
but the excitement of this keeps opening
my mouth as a sneeze or yawn does.