Isn’t That Something?
Rumi (1207-73)
I
like when
the music happens like this:
Something in His eyes grabs hold of a
tambourine in
me,
then I turn and lift a violin in someone else,
and they turn, and this turning
continues;
it has
reached you now. Isn’t that
something?
Comment by Elif Shafak
I love this poem. It is very short, and perhaps simple at first glance. I sincerely believe it needs to be read twice, at least, and if possible, it needs to be read out loud. The first time, for the meaning . The second time for the music.
This poem is singing. There is a melody in every word and a cadence in each sigh. I wonder if you hear it.
“Something in His eye grabs hold of a tambourine in me, then I turn and lift a violin in someone else…” says Rumi. It is as if we all carry deep inside our hearts a musical instrument waiting to be heard. The only way to tune them is through Love.
Only through the breath of love can we “unleash the beautiful wild forces’ within, like St Francis said.
There is something in this poem that makes me want to cry. It is very visual. I can almost see it unfold as I read. I see it in colours more than shapes.
I like it when words move like this, reaching from one person to another, from one stranger to the next, building verbal bridges between our minds, traveling huge distances in one short step.
We are so focused on our grand ambitions, big dreams, success plans, that sometimes we tend to forget the power of simple things in daily life.
Rumi’s words open up a closed door somewhere inside your soul; the wind blows in, you shiver a little, perhaps, but you are ready for a new thought, a new worldview, a new day…Time to discard all kinds of bigotries and hatreds.
Someone else’s imagination stirs mine, and my imagination might inspire yours. We are all interconnected through invisible threads.
Time for your words to touch my silences and give them a voice.
Creativity is contagious. When I hear you sing, I am tempted to write a new story; when you read my story, your soul begins to dance, and so it goes, on and on. The journey is open-ended.
Isn’t that something?
Taken from “Poems That Make Grown Women Cry. 100 Women on the Words that Move Them.” Edited by Anthony and Ben Holden. Simon &Schuster UK Ltd.
~~~~~
So you see, imagination needs noodling – long inefficient happy idling,
dawdling, and puttering.
Brenda Ueland.
To live a creative life, we must loose our fear of being wrong.
Joseph Clinton Pearce.
For me a painting is like a story which stimulates the imagination
and draws the mind into a place filled with expectation, excitement,
wonder and pleasure.