“Tired of Speaking Sweetly
Love wants to reach out and manhandle us,
Break all our teacup talk of God.
If you had the courage and
Could give the Beloved His choice, some nights,
He would just drag you around the room
By your hair,
Ripping from your grip all those toys in the world
That bring you no joy.
Love sometimes gets tired of speaking sweetly
And wants to rip to shreds
All your erroneous notions of truth
That make you fight within yourself, dear one,
And with others,
Causing the world to weep
On too many fine days.
God wants to manhandle us,
Lock us inside of a tiny room with Himself
And practice His dropkick.
The Beloved sometimes wants
To do us a great favor:
Hold us upside down
And shake all the nonsense out.
But when we hear
He is in such a “playful drunken mood”
Most everyone I know
Quickly packs their bags and hightails it
Out of town.”
ย
Hafiz
From: ‘The Gift‘
Translated by Daniel Ladinsky
Life as Improv 
Bingo!
:)))
100% true, love is too rare an event in so many lives, great post
Hafiz helps me see the love in the dropkick, a rare thing to see, yet so profound and efficient, I’m asking for it – yikes and yes!
amen
Ok, so did you write this one for me? I’m taking it as a late night dedication on the love song radio station. ๐ You have given me a fresh perspective, and I am ironically feeling very blessed that God loves me so much he has chosen to focus many dropkicks on my being. There is a children’s song that my kids loved when they were little that comes to mind. It’s by The Wiggles called “Shake your Sillies Out.” Yes, that is what is happening. Shake and drop kick and dance the night away. Love this! A
This “love” song by Hafiz and The Wiggles goes out to Andrea! ๐
Maybe because it’s so confusing to understand the difference between God and Daddy… and context… that it makes sense everyone wants to leave the room. Wow… here’s the moment for soaring above the smallness of our little lives to gain broader insight.
What an angle to look from ~merdith ~ I think every time I get confused, I am bogged down in the little life and when I remember to widen the angle of the lens I can get unstuck – quickly, soaring above, as you say. Thank you for that lens adjustment ๐
And I would allow myself to be wrung around like a rag doll with a blank stare because the aftermath would hold so much more than what I hold in my hands.
I shake my head in amazement that a few short years ago, no one I knew would have understood why I would love a poem like this so much and were probably notifying the authorities that I wanted to be drug about by my hair ๐ Now, through this little computer, I have found kindred so very close to my heart – So Grateful for the sharing, dropkick sister ๐
Reblogged this on Spiritual Biscuits and commented:
marga t. is one of my favorite writers here, and I particularly feel connected to this post today.
That some good stuff this poem it shares of your way of putting down words
Seems you are saying the words I put together are influenced by Hafiz, which is probably accurate. Rumi-speak? haha! Your last post is such a culmination of your ability to not use words but to use the tool of language to allow me/us to crawl inside your flesh and hang from the wall with you there – you shock treatment me into remembering why I choose to experience life.
Love it!