This blog is about fishing, environmental issues, Pacific Northwest people, and writing poems, essays, and stories.
Friday, July 21, 2017
Rumi's Poem "An Empty Garlic" from about 740 Years Ago is like Our Outdated Carbon Addiction
An Empty Garlic
You miss the garden, because you want a small fig from a random tree. You don't meet the beautiful woman. You're joking with an old crone. It makes me want to cry how she detains you, stinking mouthed, with a hundred talons, putting her head over the roof edge to call down, tasteless fig, fold over fold, empty as dry-rotten garlic.
She has you tight by the belt, even though there's no flower and no milk inside her body. Death will open your eyes to what her face is: Leather spine of a black lizard. No more advice.
Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love.