rumi 'a thirsty fish'

i don't get tired of you...don't grow weary of being compassionate toward me.

all this thirst equipment must surely be tired of me, the water jar, the water carrier.

i have a thirsty fish in me that can never find enough of what it's thirsty for.

show me the way to the ocean! Break these half measures, there small containers.

all this fantasy and grief.

let my house be drowned in the wave that rose last night out of the courtyard hidden in the centre of my chest.

joseph fell like the moon into my well the harvest i expected was washed away. but no matter.

a fire risen above my tombstone hat. i don't want learning or dignity or respectability.

i want this music and this dawn and the warmth of your cheek against mine.

the grief armies assemble, but i'm not going with them.

this is how it always is when i finish a poem.

a great silence over comes me and i wonder why i ever thought to use language.

rumi