haikulings inspired by Rumi’s Divan-e Shams-e Tabrizi
spring after spring
though the Sun beckons Aloft—
ostrich imitations
(Divan xxix)
*
oh foolish fish
lounging in the desert
signing your name Sphinx
(Divan xxix)
*
low angled light—
an invitation to join
other dust and dance
(Divan xxix)
*
this old lap
heaped with titles, trophies, hope—
can’t stand, much less bow
(Divan xxix)
*
these wings—
they sure work when I take off
the dress hemmed with lead
(Divan xxix)
*
head in a sack—
hard to believe the body
is already holy
(Divan xxix)
That’s interesting, the one that’s an invitation. Didn’t expect that. Also drawn to “this old lap” which holds such a fullness about ambition.