A Call For Help Is Always Answered

CRY OUT IN YOUR WEAKNESS

A dragon was pulling a bear into its terrible mouth.

A courageous man went and rescued the bear.

There are such helpers in the world, who rush to save

anyone who cries out. Like Mercy itself,

they run toward the screaming.

And they can’t be bought off.

If you were to ask one of those, “Why did you come

so quickly?” he or she would say, “Because I heard

your helplessness.”

Where lowland is,

that’s where water goes. All medicine wants

is pain to cure.

And don’t just ask for one mercy.

Let them flood in. Let the sky open under your feet.

Take the cotton out of your ears, the cotton

of consolations, so you can hear the sphere-music.

Push the hair out of your eyes.

Blow the phlegm from your nose,

and from your brain.

Let the wind breeze through.

Leave no residue in yourself from that bilious fever.

Take the cure for impotence,

that your manhood may shoot forth,

and a hundred new beings come of your cuming.

Tear the binding from around the foot

of your soul, and let it race around the track

in front of the crowd. Loosen the knot of greed

so tight on your neck. Accept your new good luck.

Give your weakness

to one who helps.

Crying out loud and weeping are great resources.

A nursing mother, all she does

is wait to hear her child.

Just a little beginning-whimper,

and she’s there.

God created the child, that is, your wanting,

so that it might cry out, so that milk might come.

Cry out! Don’t be stolid and silent

with your pain. Lament! And let the milk

o loving flow into you.

The hard rain and wind

are ways the cloud has

to take care of us.

Be patient.

Respond to every call

that excites your spirit.

Ignore those that make you fearful

and sad, that degrade you

back toward disease and death.

~Rumi

I see my father when I read this. He gave me a book of Rumi’s poems. Actually it might have been two. I always see him when I read Rumi, because he is a big fan.

I also remember this incident. Years ago, when I was walking up a street in the city in Barbados, this crazy guy with a long flourescent tube was swinging it around over his head and cussing.

He was a good distance away from me, and I stayed far away enough not to get caught.

However there was this mature woman, in her late forties or fifties, who was busy with something in her purse and  didn’t see him at all.

He started to shout as she passed close to him, walking towards me, and then he broke the length of flourescent tube over her shoulder.

She screamed in surprise and fear, because now he was threatening her. She began to run screaming, frightened out of her mind. I stood like a baseball catcher behind the plate, and caught her as she ran. I folded my arms around her, and held her tight while she sobbed and trembled.

I took care of her, wiped the blood from her (it wasn’t much) and kissed her and told her she was alright, that it was going to be alright. I called her family to come and get her, and the police.

Then when her relative came, I left her in his care and I’ve never seen her again.

The poem, I read at eGasms 4 U.

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thegoddessroom

The Vault

sungoddess

mermaid, dayo's mama, water priestess, writer, web developer, omo yemoja, dos aguas, obsessive reader, sci-fi fan, trini-bajan, combermerian, second life, music, music, music!