Stillness

Stillness

The soothing Sufi melody in the background
Cuts gently into my morning stillness.

Rumi says:
“Raise your words, not voice.
It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.”
Speak to me.

Working its way into my consciousness,
Into the stillness—
Healing. Releasing. Forgiving.

My humanity!
It cannot, impossibly,
Know everything.
All I know is that I know nothing
But the beating of my own heart.

And even that
Has led me astray
In times of hurt.

Blinded by sorrow,
By grief that chokes like thick fog,
I sat with myself.

In stillness.
In silence.
To forgive myself—
My Past.
My Presence.
My Future.

For what I didn’t know,
Or couldn’t know,
Or might never know.

Ignorance can be bliss!
But even so,
I forgive myself.

In stillness,
Wrapped in Sufi guidance,
I bless myself.

I breathe.
I am here.
I am alive.

My words will rise
Like tender shoots of green,
And my flowers will grow—
Each petal
Watered by my tears.

Thanks to the rain of my sorrow,
My garden thrives.
In stillness,
I bloom.