Long time no see. On this cold, rainy night, I wanted to share something that I had read a long time ago, but recently it's made a resurgence in my psyche.
Rumi's poem "A House for the Naked." Recently, when I re-read this poem, it invoked a feeling that I believe we should all have when we are witness to the creation of art. Sometimes with all the stress involved in putting together a show, it's hard to remember that feeling of community of the shared experience, but in a way this poem somehow reminds me. Enjoy.
A HOUSE FOR THE NAKED
It's late and it's raining, my friends;
let's go home. Let's leave these ruins
we've haunted like owls.
Even though the blind ones beckon us,
let's go home. All the reasons offered
by the sensible, dull, and sorrowful
can't darken our hearts now;
nor can all this phantom love play,
this imaginary paradise hold us back.
Some see the grain but not the harvest.
Don't ask too many "hows" or "whys."
Let Beasts graze
come home to the real celebration and music.
Shams has built a house for the naked and the pure.