A Great Wagon by Rumi.

When I see your face, the stone starts spinning.

You appear, all steadying wanders.

I lose my place.

Waters turn pearly, fire dies down, and doesn't destroy.

In your presence, I don't want what I thought I wanted, those three little hanging lamps.

Inside your face, the ancient

manuscripts seem like resting mirrors. You breathe, new shapes appear, and the music of a desire

as widespread as spring begins to move like a great wagon. Drive slowly. Some of us walking

alongside are lame. Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and

frightened. Don't open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right doing, there is a field. I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase each other doesn't make any sense.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

Don't go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want. Don't go back to sleep. You must ask for what you really want. Don't go back

to sleep. People are going back and forth across the door sill where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open. Don't go back to sleep. I would love to kiss you. The price of kissing

is your life. Now my loving is running toward my life

shouting. What a bargain. Let's buy it. Daylight, full of small dancing particles and the

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