Now sixty-two

Breaking Loose 

A Rumi Poem

Page 304 BREAKING LOOSE I have broken out again, escaped from the tricky, wiry shamans of ecstasy. Running night and day to escape night and day. Why fear grief, when death walks so close beside? Do not fear the general, when you are good friends with the prince. For forty years, I made plans and worried about them. Now sixty-two, I have moved beyond being reasonable. By definition, human beings do not see or hear. Break loose from definition. Skin outside, seeds inside, a fig lives caught between, and like that fig, I wriggle free. Hesitation, deadly. Hurrying, worse. Escape both delay and haste. Fed first with blood in the womb, then milk from the breast, my clever teeth came in, and I escaped even those. Off balance, I grope for bread, a loaf or two, until God gives the next food, and I am gone. No more garlicky detail, no more meanings only clean-breathed, silent escaping. P 304 Rumi The Big Red Book Coleman Barks 

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