Rumi's Daughter in Poetry is the Window to the Soul...

  • Jan. 29, 2016, 11:46 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

And sometimes the inspiration comes from late night encounters and the ways in which she will change my always..

“Rumi’s Daughter”

Rumi’s daughter
The seventh wonder
Her heart drawn with a flame
And I can sense my hands
Are going to burn again
When it comes to lovers
There is no other
No thought to convey
She breaks you down
Holds you sound
With her simple
Stick figure ways

As she whispers so soft
Love your neighbor
Share your treasure
Stay true to always
And we will make it out
We will all make it out
We will make it out okay

Rumi’s daughter
The seventh wonder
Does not sleep for days
Lays awake
For self-discover
She changes ways
My weather worn, tired
Thoughts to suffer
Chased away

My weather worn, tired
Thoughts to suffer
She chases away

Rumi’s daughter
The seventh wonder
Does not sleep for days
She lays in wait
For self-recover
In the sanskrit of lovers
That weather worn, tired
Religion of others
So clearly
Lost its way

Religion of others
So clearly
Lost its way

Rumi’s daughter
The greatest wonder
Does not sleep for days
And she lays in wait
Changing ways
How we can relate
Not left to the Fates
She is changing ways
From just sometimes
To always

For Rumi’s daughter
Love is her religion
Freedom from prison
And she is preaching, oh
She is preaching love
She is preaching, y’all
Every single day

© Brian Milici
January 27, 2016

The only person to see this poem right after I wrote it took it that night with her to a poetry reading held at a local coffeehouse called The Neutral Ground. Every Wednesday night they do poetry readings from 8pm to 9pm. Anyway, I’d been told I should go about six months ago by Meredith’s sister-in-law when she found out I wrote poetry. I didn’t know anyone, though now I clearly do. I could not make it that night, but am interested in going.

Anyway, she said she liked it and if I was cool with it she planned to read it that night at the Neutral Ground. I hadn’t even posted it here on ProseBox and no one had seen it but her. Anyway, she went and read it, and said everyone was very engaged in it, and at the end every single person clapped. I figured this was normal – she said not at all. Most times people are on their phone or not really listening with intent and it’s not ordinary for everyone to clap. Afterward she was told it was beautiful, and a regular poet friend there told her to encourage me to come and read my stuff that it was damned good.

That’s a first. I’ve had people put my poetry in books before, which is flattering, and even show it to their friends or what not, but never has someone gone and read my poem aloud to a strange audience. She wants to read more of my stuff in the future. She said she’ll make me famous locally. Amused. Flattered.

There’s a lot more to this girl, obviously, but for now that’s all I’m willing to share. So here’s the poem. Since it’s already been read I’m not going to edit it and will leave it as I wrote it. Which was not my intent to do at the time. :)

This is inspired in part by the famous Turkish poet and philosopher Rumi and his popular poem:

“I belong to no religion.
My religion is Love.
Every heart is my temple.”

— Rumi

Feedback is always adored.

Now, go and get into some trouble you crazy kids. It’s Mardi Gras season. :)

May you always find your smile.


Loading comments...

You must be logged in to comment. Please sign in or join Prosebox to leave a comment.