Searching for Haven

That our path is not optimal is a universal understanding.

‘Perfection is unreachable yet irresistible’ holds a similar grasp.

Yet we cry over allocations, in all our locations,

Heads bowed in grief whilst the tears wet our cheeks

Our future a standstill, perpetual limbo

Ideals must be severed, and no repairs permitted.

We are silver castaways until our collections are found

Or misfit coppers, too heavy to rest in pockets,

Too light to lend our loyalties to the dust,

And the underwater prospects satisfy not a soul.

We must choose our paths wisely,

For only the finest of soils

Will allow trees to thrive,

And the largest of trees

Will be destroyed for a profit.

Where rests our haven, may I inquire?

Reality whispers that it doesn’t exist.

Reviews

[Emily B]

Do you read Rumi? This reminds me so much of his light and wisdom

wonderful work

[A.M. Victoria (LostWritings)]

Thank you so much! I have not read Rumi yet, so I will have to look into that. Any suggestions about his works?

[Emily B]

start with this one:

Stay close, my heart, to the one who knows your ways;
Come into the shade of the tree that allays has fresh flowers.
Don’t stroll idly through the bazaar of the perfume-markers:
Stay in the shop of the sugar-seller.
If you don’t find true balance, anyone can deceive you;
Anyone can trick out of a thing of straw,
And make you take it for gold
Don’t squat with a bowl before every boiling pot;
In each pot on the fire you find very different things.
Not all sugarcanes have sugar, not all abysses a peak;
Not all eyes possess vision, not every sea is full of pearls.
O nightingale, with your voice of dark honey! Go on lamenting!
Only your drunken ecstasy can pierce the rock’s hard heart!
Surrender yourself, and if you cannot be welcomes by the Friend,
Know that you are rebelling inwardly like a thread
That doesn’t want to go through the needle’s eye!
The awakened heart is a lamp; protect it by the him of your robe!
Hurry and get out of this wind, for the weather is bad.
And when you’ve left this storm, you will come to a fountain;
You’ll find a Friend there who will always nourish your soul.
And with your soul always green, you’ll grow into a tall tree
Flowering always with sweet light-fruit, whose growth is interior.



—Rumi–


:)

[A.M. Victoria (LostWritings)]

Wow, this poem is outstanding. Thank you for showing this one to me! I will definitely be reading more of his works. :)