Statue in the Garden

Oh, dread! I'm turning to stone.
Frozen in place from the outside in,
but passion still burns in my heart
Cold stone on the outside, molten hot at the core...

You can see the expression on my face
Is one of distress, longing and hope.
My outstretched arm reaches up and out...
My begging hand revealed.
My humble heart not asking for much...
My feet frozen one in front of the other,
Ready, always ready to take the next step and move on.

But here I stand forever still with the birds perching around me,
In the center of the garden, ever looking up and reaching toward the morning sun...
A stone figure to all eyes that see, a warm resting place for the heart
If the heart is troubled by wrongful heat,
rest it here and move on before you turn to stone too.

Cold stone on the outside but still hot lava at the core...
Frozen from the outside in, this is the curse.
Other statues are dead inside, other lava flows and bubbles,
I am stone but oh how the passion still burns in my heart,
Hot as lava my heart burns, but no one will know,
For I am frozen from the outside in and cannot tell.
For anyone with eyes and ears, I am just a statue.
Just a curious decoration in the garden, reaching toward the morning sun.

Thematic Rumi Poetry...

You are in love with me, I shall make you perplexed.

Do not build much, for I intend to have you in ruins.
If you build two hundred houses in a manner that the bees do;
I shall make you as homeless as a fly.
If you are the mount Qaf in stability.
I shall make you whirl like a millstone.

-RUMI

I was in love, now I am perplexed... whirling for sure...

I could have written this one... my heart agrees:

I said I shall tell the tale of my heart as best as I can;
Caught in the storm of my tears, with a bleeding heart, I failed to do that!
I tried to relate to event in broken, muted words;
The cup of my thoughts was so fragile, that I fell into pieces like shattered glass.
Many ships were wrecked in this storm;
What is my little helpless boat in comparison?
The waves destroyed my ship, neither good remained nor bad;
Free from myself, I tied my body to a raft.
Now, I am neither up nor down-no this is not a fair description;
I am up on a wave one instant, and down under another the next.
I am not aware of my existence, I know only this:
When I am, I am not, and when I am not, I am!
(Divan 1419:1-6)


I relate to this one experiencially:

Like a thief reason sneaked in and sat amongst the lovers eager to give them advice.
They were unwilling to listen, so reason kissed their feet and went on its way.


One Last one: Here's my plan...

Seek the wisdom that will untie your know
see the path that demands your whole being.
Leave that which is not, but appears to be
seek that which is, but is not apparent.


What I had was not but appeared to be... now I have to turn my heart around.
My broken, misguided heart... I will be more apt to listen to reason from here out.

When do you know?

When do you know if it's time to stay or go?
When does it become final that these things must end?
He tears me down and burns me up-
Then treats me nice again.

So when it's bad, it's really bad,
But it's so nice when it's good.
Should have been years ago, how would I know?
I have never understood-
That all of this was so wrong, should have listened to my friends
Who said to let go, let go! But I did't want to see it end.
Now I'm so cold and broke, I've given all- it's gone.
Everything's fine though, all is well-
Let's play pretend and continue on.
When it gets overwhelming, he'll spout again...
I know he will, it happens too often
From the start he has done this
and it's just now I have the respect for myself to realize that it is wrong.

SO this is my song:
How do you know, how do you confirm
When it's the end and when to stand firm?
When do you know if it's better or worse?
When will it turn to blessing from curse?
I don't know. I don't know when
To give up or dive in, try more or throw the towel in...
I am exausted, there's more to life than this.
And it's almost time to quit. Not yet, but it's almost time to quit.

Time for a change

I'm used to being helpless, I'm used to being poor.
But I have changed and I don't want it that way any more.
I don't want to be opressed, I don't want to wear these chains!
Was I weak willed or submissive? It's just time for a change.
Sitting here in an open prison, going through the motions.
The doors no longer need to lock- to escape is not a notion.
Something deep inside woke up, something in me stirs,
Telling me that I don't have to live under this curse.
Poor in spirit, I have been; I grow stronger day by day
Help me, Lord, to honor You and walk within Your way.
Help me to seek Your way and not go off on my own,
Please, Lord, give me strength for this and make Your will known,
oh please make Your will known.
Help me to choose Your ways- so much higher than my own.
Oh please make Your will known.

River of Life

I am being pulled by the strong COLD current.
Turned and tossed about, smashed into rocks and carried onward so fast
Barely able to keep the surface close
Searching for air to breathe as I'm swept away
Afraid of what's in the river with me
And what harm that it might cause
What's scary is that I cannot see
What to do to protect myself or avoid the jagged rocks
As the raging river of life carries me on
Oh, coming up, to the left or the right
Do I swim hard for the uphill and windy
Or do I flow with the rest of the world
At a rampant pace to the wide downhill way
Life is going over rocky rapids right now either way I go.
Better start swimming up.
I hope I make it...

Partner-In-Clown

Saturday Market, a City street,
A sad balloon-clown I did meet.
My little girl asked for a hat,
He shaped balloons there as he sat.
He told the tale with invisible tears,
Told me of his balloon twistin' years.

A "Partner-in-Clown" he said he once had,
He lost her in March, and that's why he's sad.
I Could almost feel his broken heart,
Each of them had performed a part.
To people 'round them, they brought smiles,
Together, they'd gone many miles.
These two together with the cat,
He tells me they made quite an act.
He shaped balloons for children's fun,
She painted faces one by one.
The silly cat there with red mane,
Joy and giggles he obtained...

The sad clown showed me photographs,
Most with smiles, a lot with laughs!
Saw her look children in the eye,
Paint their faces, wave goodbye!
Her shiny clown-suit was so cute,
She had big orange hair to boot.
She was happy, you could tell,
She did what she loved so well.
The cat liked children, and all laps,
Didn't take many cat-naps...

The color photos he showed me,
Were of his happy family.
The sad clown sparkled in his eye,
His hand twists, a balloon to tie,
She passed on, March of 2003,
His Partner-in-Clown, she was lovely.

He must now do his act alone,
Where is the cat? It's unknown.
He smiled and said he's here for fun,
As he handed the hat to my little one.
I gave him tips that he was due,
And left him, saying, "God Bless you!"

Half-block away, I turned around,
To look back on the sad balloon-clown.
There with his cart, nodding his head,
To all who came by, "Hello, there!" he said.
I'll not soon forget this clown,
On that day in the city, walking around.