The Self We Share

Thirst is angry with water. Hunger bitter

with bread.

The cave wants nothing to do with the sun.

This is dumb, the self- defeating way

we've been.

A gold mine is calling us into its temple.

Instead, we bend and keep picking up rocks

from the ground.

Every thing has a shine like gold,

but we should turn to the source!

The origin is what we truly are. I add a little

vinegar to the honey I give.

The bite of scolding makes ecstasy more familiar.

But look, fish, you're already in the ocean:

just swimming there makes you friends with

glory.

What are these grudges about? You are Benjamin.

Joseph has put a gold cup in your grain sack and

accused you of being a thief.

Now he draws you aside and says,

"You are my brother. I

am a prayer. You're the amen."

We move in eternal regions, yet

worry about property here.

This is the prayer of each:

You are the source of my life.

You separate essence from mud.

You honor my soul. You bring rivers from the

mountain springs. You brighten my eyes.

The wine you offer takes me out of myself into

the self we share. Doing that is religion.

From Teaching stories of Rumi translated by Coleman Barks