For My Divine

FOR MY DIVINE Rumi graces his beloved in trance Hears the pathos of that "reed's song" Every 'fiber' of his making Speaks loud of gratitude. Of benign soul -- rested in a calm. He knows, he can never lose, As he stays firm. He feels to see his beloved With soul's vision; In a magic spell, he utters I feel tempted-- Could I ever love like him? Could I be one of that lucky few? My dry heart croaks in "saw dust" Would I say -- You feel me, and, I am full of you, There -- Even if the life ends in loss And tatters like straws. I will burn in holy glows Even if my fire goes.