WHERE EVERYTHING IS MUSIC                         

                                                                            

Don’t worry about saving these songs!              

And if one of our instruments breaks,                           

it doesn’t matter.                                                  

                                                                             

We have fallen into the place                               

where everything is music.                                   

                                                                             

The strumming and the flute notes                       

rise into the atmosphere,                                                

and even if the whole world’s harp                      

should burn up, there will still be                         

hidden instruments playing.                                 

                                                                             

So the candle flickers and goes out.                     

We have a piece of flint, and a spark.

                                                                             

This singing art is sea foam.                                 

The graceful movements come from a pearl                  

somewhere on the ocean floor.                                      

                                                                             

Poems reach up like spindrift and the edge          

of driftwood along the beach, wanting!                

                                                                             

They derive                                                          

from a slow and powerful root                                      

that we can’t see.                                                 

                                                                                     

Stop the words now.                                            

Open the window in the center of your chest,      

and let the spirits fly in and out.                                    

                                    Rumi