“The Lord of Beauty enters the soul as a man walks into an orchard in Spring.”


For those who don’t know, Rumi was a Persian philosopher in the 13th century. He was also a writer, poet and founder of the movement of the Whirling Dervishes (which for those unfamiliar with them are like normal Dervishes, except they whirl. A lot).

Say I am You

I am dust particles in sunlight.

I am the round sun.

To the bits of dust I say, Stay.

To the sun, Keep moving.

I am morning mist,

And the breathing of evening.

I am the wind in the top of a grove,

and surf on the cliff.

Mast, rudder, helmsman and the keel,

I am also the coral reef the founder on.

I am a tree with a trained parrot in its branches.

Silence, thought and voice.

The musical air coming through a flute,

A spark of a stone, a flickering

In metal. Both candle,

And the moth crazy around it.

Rose and the nightingale

Lost in the fragrance.

I am all order of being,

The circling galaxy,

The evolutionary intelligence,

The lift and the falling away.

What is and what isn’t.

You who know Jelaluddin,

You the one in all,

Say who I am.

Say I am you.

From the Essential Rumi.