Rusted Cup

The pilgrims gather at the dry well
Waiting impatiently for the temple gates to open.
They shun the dervish who offers them a rusted cup.

They all leave, but for one seeker.
 Only she accepts his gift.

The cup overflows with Divine Wine.
Her heart beats the Divine Song.
Her feet, the Divine Dance.

Stained Cloak

The dervish's cloak is dark brown.
Stained with old wine and covered with the dust of many long journeys.

But in her whirling, we see once again those beautiful threads
Blinding us in their radiance,
And calling us to join the Divine Dance.
Arm in jewel-covered arm.

The Storm

The moon and stars dance on the still pool's surface.
Clouds gather, and soon storms send streams rushing.
Overflowing, water spills into the greater river.

Yet in each molecule remains that silence, the deeper light.
Illuminating the cry "Hu!"
Releasing the bliss frozen in every stone in its sea-seeking path.

The Restaurant

The master chef has prepared the feast.
Exotic smells drift outwards from the kitchen.

The waiters worry.
"How will we feed our own children tonight?
"No one will chance this strange menu!"

The cook laughs, rolling out the sweet pastry dough.
"They always stay for dessert."

Aubree

The dervish is still.
Head tilted, she listens to the unstoppable song.
Like a buried green shoot seeking the sun,
Her turning starts so small.
Pushing her way upwards to the sweet kiss of the Divine,
Bathed in bliss,
The Power of her glance lifts us all.