The Kabir Book - Versions by Robert Bly

18

I talk to my inner lover, and I say, why such

rush?

We sense that there is some sort of spirit that loves

birds and animals and the ants-

perhaps the same one who gave a radiance to you in

your mother's womb.

Is it locical you would be walking around entirely

orphaned now?

The truth is you turned away yourself,

and decided to go into the dark alone.

Now you are tangled up in others, and have forgotten

what you once knew,

and that's why everything you do has come weird

failure in it.

The Kabir Book - Versions by Robert Bly

17

What comes out of the harp? Music!

And there is a dance no hands or feet dance.

No fingers play it, no ears hear it,

because the Holy One is the ear,

and the one listening too.

The great doors reamin closed, but the spring

fragrance

comes inside anyway,

and no one sees what takes place there.

Men and women who have entered through both doors at once will understand this poem.

The Kabir Book - Versions by Robert Bly

Between the conscious and the unconscious, the
mind has put up a swing:
all creatures, even the supernovas, sway
between these two trees,
and it never winds down.

Angels, animals, humans, insects by the millions, also
the wheeling sun and moon;
ages go by, and it goes on.

Everything is swinging: heaven, eath, water, fire,
and the secret one slowly growing a body.
Kabir saw that for fifteen seconds, and it made him a
servant for life.