Poetry Rumi Quotes

I know you're tired but come, this is the way.

The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you Don't go back to sleep! You must ask for what you really want. Don't go back to sleep! People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch, The door is round and open Don't go back to sleep!

Do you know what you are? You are a manuscript oƒ a divine letter. You are a mirror reflecting a noble face. This universe is not outside of you. Look inside yourself; everything that you want, you are already that.

Like a sculptor, if necessary, carve a friend out of stone. Realize that your inner sight is blind and try to see a treasure in everyone.

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I'll meet you there.

Lovers find secret places inside this violent world where they make transactions with beauty.

I will soothe you and heal you, I will bring you roses. I too have been covered with thorns.

Unable to perceive the shape of You, I find You all around me. Your presence fills my eyes with Your love, It humbles my heart, For You are everywhere.

You dance inside my chest, where no one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.

You think of yourself as a citizen of the universe. You think you belong to this world of dust and matter. Out of this dust you have created a personal image, and have forgotten about the essence of your true origin

Woman is the light of God.

This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.

Never lose hope, my heart, miracles dwell in the invisible. If the whole world turns against you keep your eyes on the Friend.

There is a loneliness more precious than life. There is a freedom more precious than the world. Infinitely more precious than life and the world is that moment when one is alone with God.

My friend, you thought you lost Him; that all your life you've been separated from Him. Filled with wonder, you've always looked outside for Him, and haven't searched within your own house.

The Water said to the dirty one, “Come here.” The dirty one said, “I am too ashamed.” The water replied, “How will your shame be washed away without me?

I said to the night, "If you are in love with the moon, it is because you never stay for long." The night turned to me and said, "It is not my fault. I never see the Sun, how can I know that love is endless?

A wealth you cannot imagine flows through you. Do not consider what strangers say. Be secluded in your secret heart-house, that bowl of silence.

On the path of Love we are neither masters nor the owners of our lives. We are only a brush in the hand of the Master Painter.

There came one and knocked at the door of the Beloved. And a voice answered and said, 'Who is there?' The lover replied, 'It is I.' 'Go hence,' returned the voice; 'there is no room within for thee and me.' Then came the lover a second time and knocked and again the voice demanded, 'Who is there?' He answered, 'It is thou.' 'Enter,' said the voice, 'for I am within.

I belong to no religion. My religion is love. Every heart is my temple.

This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say. I don't plan it. When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

You can't stop dreaming just because the night never seems to end.

You were born with wings, why prefer to crawl through life?” ― Rumi

Soul receives from soul that knowledge, therefore not by book nor from tongue. If knowledge of mysteries come after emptiness of mind, that is illumination of heart.

I said, “I just want to know you and then disappear.” She said, “Knowing me does not mean dying.

And watch two men washing clothes, one makes dry clothes wet. The other makes wet clothes dry. they seem to be thwarting each other, but their work is a perfect harmony. Every holy person seems to have a different doctrine and practice, but there's really only one work.

Your acts of kindness are iridescent wings of divine love, which linger and continue to uplift others long after your sharing.

Sometimes in life confusion tends to arise and only dialogue of dance seems to make sense.

Are you jealous of the ocean's generosity? Why would you refuse to give this love to anyone? Fish don't hold the sacred liquid in cups! They swim in the huge, fluid freedom.

Oh soul, you worry too much. You have seen your own strength. You have seen your own beauty. You have seen your golden wings. Of anything less, why do you worry? You are in truth the soul, of the soul, of the soul.

There is some kiss we want with our whole lives, the touch of spirit on the body. Seawater begs the pearl to break its shell. and the lily, how passionately it needs some wild darling! At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me. Close the language door and open the lovers window. The moon won’t use the door, only the window.

Dance less in motion and more in spirit; awaken the dreamer within.

All day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, And I intend to end up there. This drunkenness began in some other tavern. When I get back around to that place, I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile, I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary. The day is coming when I fly off, But who is it now in my ear who hears my voice? Who says words with my mouth? Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? I cannot stop asking. If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks. I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way. Whoever brought me here will have to take me home. This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say. I don't plan it. When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet and rarely speak at all. We have a huge barrel of wine, but no cups. That's fine with us. Every morning We glow and in the evening we glow again.

If movements were a spark every dancer would desire to light up in flames.

Caution not spirit, let it roam wild; for in that natural state dance embraces divine frequency.

Dance as the narration of a magical story; that recites on lips, illuminates imaginations and embraces the most sacred depths of souls.

Only union with you gives joy. The rest if tearing down one building to put up another.

All religions. All this singing. One song. Peace be with you.

Late, by myself, in the boat of myself, no light and no land anywhere, cloudcover thick. I try to stay just above the surface, yet I'm already under and living within the ocean.

Dance is the timeless interpretation of life.

What else can I say? You will only hear what you are ready to hear. Don’t nod your head, Don’t try to fool me— the truth of what you see is written all over your face!

You brought me your darkness & I loved you with the radiant tears of a thousand suns.

Show me a person who found love in his life and did not celebrate it with a dance.

The sun never has an inferiority complex. It shines the same whether above or below.

If spirit is the seed, dance is the water of its evolution.

Speak Little. Learn the words of eternity. Go beyond your tangled thoughts and find the splendor of paradise.

If you opened the dictionary and searched for the meaning of a Goddess, you would find the reflection of a dancing lady.

You are not a drop in the ocean You are the entire ocean in a drop

Don't breathe to survive; dance and feel alive.

Life is an affair of mystery; shared with companions of music, dance and poetry.

I see the life with your sight, O" the love; you're my light.

Yesterday, I was clever so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise so I want to change myself.

Music does not need language of words for it has movements of dance to do its translation.

Shall I tell you our secret? We are charming thieves who steal hearts and never fail because we are the friends of the One. Blessed is the poem that comes through me but not of me because the sound of my own music will drown the song of Love.

Dance to inspire, dance to freedom, life is about experiences so dance and let yourself become free.

Through synergy of intellect, artistry and grace came into existence the blessing of a dancer.

Let yourself becoming living poetry

Even your graffiti artists spray Rumi on the walls

DANCE – Defeat All Negativity (via) Creative Expression.

Don't flounder in the preambles of the past Wounded with regrets; don't let autumnal Nostalgia blind you to the sounds and scents Of the present's Spring; you're a native of The pellucid moment, make it infinite beyond The curving snake of passing time and space. Learn to die in the infinitely elusive moment.

Soar like an eagle beyond skies of heavens reach; as wings of dreams dance with winds of reality.

Dance resides within us all. Some find it when joy conquers sorrow, others express it through celebration of movements; and then there are those... whose existence is dance,

She who is a dancer can only sway the silk of her hair like the summer breeze.

There's a path from me to you I'm constantly looking for, so I try to keep clear and still as water does with the moon.

you are a volume in the divine book a mirror to the power that created the universe whatever you want, ask it of yourself whatever you're looking for can only be found inside of you

Dance is the ritual of immortality.

One step, two steps, three steps; like winds of time experience joy of centuries, when movements become revelations of the dance of destinies.

There's a community of the spirit. Join it, and feel the delight of walking in the noisy street and being the noise. Drink all your passion, and be a disgrace. Close both eyes to see with the other eye. From Essential Rumi by Coleman Barks

If you want money more than anything, you will be bought and sold. If you have a greed for food, you will become a loaf of bread. This is a subtle truth. Whatever you love, you are.

If you want what visible reality can give, you're an employee. If you want the unseen world, you're not living your truth. Both wishes are foolish, but you'll be forgiven for forgetting that what you really want is love's confusing joy.

Making true love is not about feeling the skin, It's about feeling the soul without touching.

I keep holding up the mirror of the sun, so you can see the stunning reflections of everything you’re becom- ing.

Those who don't feel this Love pulling them like a river, those who don't drink dawn like a cup of spring water or take sunset like supper, those who don't want to change, let them sleep. This Love is beyond the study of theology, that old trickery and hypocrisy. If you want to improve your mind that way sleep on. I've given up on my brain. I've torn the cloth to shreds and thrown it away. If you're not completely naked wrap your beautiful robe of words around you, and sleep.

Somewhere along the way, there develops within the soul a yearning that can no longer be ignored, a craving for the great love affair. We feel it drawing ever closer. It is the greatest of them all. It cannot fail. It is all consuming. It is incomparable. It is the love affair with our own true nature and the source from which it comes. The desire is in all of us but, more often than not, it is ignored for other interests. We wrestle with each interest, trying to make it work, growing with each adventure until the light has grown bright enough for us to reach for it.

He remembers a verse from the mystic poet, Rumi, Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.

All religions. All this singing. One sone. Peace be with you.

I am you, but I don’t have your name. I hold you, though you think you hold me. I wander, yet I’m always home. I’m only one, but not alone. Who am I?

I touch them all, But stay in none. I’m forever here, Yet forever gone. Who am I?

I grow when I’m shrinking, My light’s most bright when I’m sinking. I’m nourished by my emptiness, In a hollow space, I find my bliss. Who am I?

I defy darkness, and I define it. I lead you to the infinite. I guide you out of what you think you are, Cut through the veils, I take you to the stars. Who am I?

It is in the vision of the physical eyes That no invisible or secret thing exists. But when the eye is turned toward the Light of God What thing could remain hidden under such Light?

Every object, every being, is a jar full of delight. Be a connoisseur, and taste with caution. Any wine will get you high. Judge like a king, and choose the purest, the ones unadulterated with fear, or some urgency about "what's needed." Drink the wine that moves you as a camel moves when it's been untied, and is just ambling about.

That unknown is a diamond in a universe of dirt. Uncertainty. Unpredictability. It is when you turn your emotions into art. It is BTS and the Sistine Chapel and Rumi's poetry and Ross Geller on the stairs yelling, 'Pivot.' Every creation great and small, they are our diamonds.

The ecstatic beauty and soulful grace of Rumi’s poetry inspires human hearts to believe in possibilities beyond the predictably fatal.

Love is like a gold mine, The deeper you dig in your heart, the more love you receive.

Be silent now. Say fewer and fewer praise poems. Let yourself become living poetry.

Burdened no more is soul for whom life flows through dance and not breath.

Water the fruit trees, and don't water the thorns. Be generous to what nurtures the spirit and God's luminous reason-light. Don't honor what causes dysentry and knotted up tumors.

Dance is that delicacy of life radiating every particle of our existence with happiness.

Fear is my mother, reason my guide, In danger I grow, with strength by my side. I rise not by shouting, but through steady will, Facing the storm, I stand firm and still. Who am I?

I am the dance where halves dissolve, The stillness where things evolve. I am a drop, and the ocean too, A song unsung, yet heard in you. I am the hunter and the prey, The night that swallows the birth of day. Who am I?

every experience will fill with immediacy. Because I love this, I am never bored. Beauty constantly wells up like the noise of springwater in my ear. Tree limbs rise and fall like ecstatic arms. Leaf sounds talk together like poets making fresh metaphors. The green felt cover slips; we get a flash of the mirror underneath. The conventional opinion of this poetry is that it shows great optimism for the future. But Father Reason says, No need to announce the future. This now is it. Your deepest need and desire is satisfied by this moment’s energy here in your hand.

Good poetry, like music or a sweet touch, can doctor us up, be an antidote for an hour or longer, help us to get dressed for another day--combat the blues enough to mount the horse again; and maybe even aid in laying down the insidious weight of some old grudge or deep-rooted anxiety. Herein enters Rumi.

eğer sen, can konağını arıyorsan, bil ki sen cansın. eğer bir lokma ekmek peşinde koşuyorsan, sen bir ekmeksin. bu gizli, bu nükteli sözün manasına akıl erdirirsen, anlarsın ki aradığın ancak sensin, sen.

Your cruelties and mistakes may look damning to you, but that is not what I see. Every human conversation is more elegant and complex than the entire solar system that contains it. You have no idea how marvelous you are, but I am not only here to protect what you are now, I am here to protect what you will become. I can't tell you what that might be because I don't know. That unknown is a diamond in a universe of dirt. Uncertainty. Unpredictability. It is when you turn your emotions into art. It is BTS and the Sistine Chapel and Rumi's poetry and Ross Geller on the stairs yelling, 'Pivot.' Every creation great and small, they are our diamonds. And what you may be in two hundred years, we can guess with fair accuracy. What you are in two thousand . . . Oh, my friends . . . my best friends, you cannot know.

Sonnet I If thee must say that I am not who I am, That I am not real or true, Then thou must say you are not as well, For we either walk in fairytales and dance to our dreams, Or we die trying to capture a miracle between the ordinary moments, We rejoice in the gratitude for our needs met, But we pray for the staircases and open doors to our desires, We redefine our gratitude with another day, Another dance of praise to Thee for undoing are mistakes of unneeded wants and needs we want, but not met.

Many Americans first fell in love with the poetry of the thirteenth century teacher and spiritual leader Jelalludin Rumi during the early 1990s when the unparalleled lyrical grace, philosophical brilliance, and spiritual daring of his work took modern Western readers completely by surprise. The impact of its soulful beauty and the depth of its profound humanity were so intense that they reportedly prompted numerous individuals to spontaneously compose poetry.

Any movement or sound is a profession of faith, as the millstone grinding is explaining how it believes in the river. No metaphor can explain this, but I cannot stop pointing to the beauty. Every moment and place says, Put this design in your carpet. I want to be in such a passionate adoration that my tent gets pitched against the sky. Let the beloved come and sit like a guard dog in front of the tent. When the ocean surges, don't let me just hear it. Let is splash inside my chest.

The Prodigal Son They gave the deep end of their heart--a hue of crimson red, They whispered their desire and offered up their bed, Yet he prayed for the spirit in the wind and God’s mysteries to find, And in the end it was her transparent heart that stole his restless mind, It really was no contest, not a question or even a doubt, But that is not where love ends or even what true love is all about, You see there was one other that rose above the rest, She was not like these women but still she was God’s very best, So the moral goes: A child answered the call to this man's wandering heart, And that is how the story ends you see... she became his favorite part, And what happened to the virtuous woman who put his mind in hell, She became the whisper in his music and a mystery to tell.