Nothing Can Shatter This Love
can shatter this
For even if you took another
into your arms,
the truth is my dear,
you would still
It Happens All The Time In Heaven
It happens all the time in heaven,
And some day
It will begin to happen
Again on earth--
That men and women who are married,
And men and men who are
And women and women
Who give each other
Often will get down on their knees
And while so tenderly
Holding their lover's hand,
With tears in their eyes,
Will sincerely speak, saying,
How can I be more loving to you;
How can I be more
You Might Get Pregnant
when our hands touch
you might get pregnant.
And with you
Among Strong Men
My soul is like a young doe-eyed maid
Still bruised from last night's divine passion.|
But my Master makes me live
Like a humble servant
When any king would trade his throne
For the splendor my eye can see.
Call it many things--
Give your desire polite names
If you must;
Mask the primal instinct from your reality
If you cannot bear that sacred edge
That will hone your ken
Against the Sun and earth.
Among strong men in the Tavern
I can speak a truth
No one will laugh at:
My heart is like a wild alley cat in heat.
In every possible way I conspire
To know freedom and love.
Forget about the common reason, Hafiz,
For it only enslaves.
There is something holy deep inside of you
That is so ardent and awake,
That needs to lie down naked
Next to God.
with passion make love,
with passion eat and drink
and dance and
like a dead fish
In a Tree House
Will someday split you open
Even if your life is now a cage,
For a divine seed, the crown of destiny,
Is hidden and sown on an ancient, fertile plain
You hold the title to.
Love will surely bust you wide open
Into an unfettered, blooming new galaxy
Even if your mind is now
A spoiled mule.
A life-giving radiance will come,
The Friend's gratuity will come--
O look again within yourself,
For I know you were once the elegant host
To all the marvels in creation.
From a sacred crevice in your body
A bow rises each night
And shoots your soul into God.
Behold the Beautiful Drunk Singing One
From the lunar vantage point of love.
He is conducting the affairs
Of the whole universe
While throwing wild parties
In a tree house -- on a limb
In your heart.
The Size of the Love-Bruise
Gauge of a good poem is
The size of the love-bruise it leaves
On your neck.
The size of the love-bruise it can paint
On your brain.
The size of the love-bruise it can weave
Into your soul.
It could be all of the