Gitanjali

When You Are Old

When you are old and gray and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face among a crowd of stars.

--- William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

Morning Rain

A slight rain comes,

bathed in dawn light.

I hear it among treetop leaves

before mistArrives.

Soon it sprinkles the soil and,

Windblown, follows clouds away.

Deepened Colors grace

thatch homes for a moment.

Flocks and herds of things

wild glisten Faintly.

Then the scent of musk opens across

Half a mountain -- and lingers on past noon.

--- Tu Fu

THE INVITATION

By Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.

I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting in your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.

I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.

I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or become shrivelledand closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit in pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to becareful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true.

I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself, if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day and if you can source your life from God's presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.

I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here.

I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.

I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

At some time in our life the devil within all of us wins. It is not having been in the dark house, but having left it, that counts.

Do You Love Me?

A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more

than you love me?
The 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 have forgotten all my learning,

but from knowing you

I have become a scholar.

I have lost all my strength,

but from your power

I am able.

If I love myself

I love you.

If I love you

I love myself.

--- Jalaluddin Rumi

THE TAO TI CHING

Nothing in the world
is as soft and yielding as water.
Yet for dissolving the hard and inflexible,
nothing can surpass it.
The soft overcomes the hard;
the gentle overcomes the rigid.
Everyone knows this is true,
but few can put it into practice.
Therefore the Master remains
serene in the midst of sorrow.
Evil cannot enter his heart.
Because he has given up helping,
he is people’s greatest help.
True words seem paradoxical.

---LAO TZU

Gifts

I gave my first love laughter,

I gave my second tears,

I gave my third love silence,

Through all the years.

My first love gave me singing,

My second eyes to see,

But oh, it was my third love

Who gave my soul to me.

SARAH TEASDALE