Day 13: “Your Mother and My Mother”

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“Your Mother and My Mother”

Fear is the cheapest room in the house.

I would like to see you living

In better conditions,

 

For your mother and my mother

Were friends.

 

I know the Innkeeper

In this part of the universe.

Get some rest tonight,

Come to my verse again tomorrow,

We’ll go speak to the Friend together.

 

I should not make any promises right now,

But I know if you

Pray

Somewhere in this world –

Something good will happen.

 

God wants to see

More love and playfulness in your eyes

For that is your greatest witness to Him.

 

Your soul and my soul

Once sat in the Beloved’s womb

Playing footsie.

 

Your heart and my heart

Are very, very old

Friends.

 

It’s hard to believe that I made it thirteen days before I introduced a poem by Hafiz, the masterful, 14th century Persian poet and Sufi mystic. I knew once I started I would never want to stop. Thirty days of Hafiz would be a pleasure for me.

Hafiz can make me laugh and cry, feel totally understood and totally bewildered, but never, never bored. The Gift, a collection of his poetry translated by Daniel Ladinsky, is my frequent companion. It sits on my bedside table and goes on just about every trip I do, dog-eared, penciled, highlighted, and full of mementoes from various locations. Hafiz’s mystical playfulness resonates deeply with me; I am always looking for a way to joy,  to fun and laughter, to companionship with the people around me and with God. I love how Hafiz refers to God as “Beloved” and “Friend, “and calls his readers by those names as well. We’re all in this together his poems seem to say.

In this poem, I love how Hafiz portrays himself as an ancient real estate broker, looking out for a special client who has fallen upon hard times. (Who among us hasn’t?) “Fear” has become their habitat and Hafiz can’t bear to see it and is confident God will feel likewise. We cannot “witness” when we are in fear, rather only when “love and playfulness” radiate from our eyes. Can we trust Hafiz to get us relocated? I think so; after all, our souls once played footsie in the “Beloved’s womb.” Having just seen pictures of a friend’s newborn baby, I can honestly say, I believe that’s exactly where she came from.

Something that might be missed in a quick reading of the poem is the line that Hafiz delivers, almost sotto voce, a little secret about prayer: “If you/ Pray/ Somewhere in this world –/ Something good will happen.” In these little lines, in the middle of this little poem, he upends everything we’ve been taught about prayer and at the same time, redeems it. From our very first moments, we are taught petitionary prayer, to ask for things, or for things to happen. Inevitably, we are disappointed when they don’t, but what if our prayers were answered, somewhere and for someone? What if the energy, intention, love, devotion and faithfulness we put into our prayers enter the Divine womb to heal and help in ways we never know about?

That’s what my friend, Hafiz, does so well: offer encouragement, wisdom, compassion and love, each and every time.

 

1 Comment

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  1. Thanks so much, Ali. When I lived in Iran I clearly got the impression that Hafiz was the favorite of the day. He makes me laugh and cry and fairly swoon in wonder. Yeah. Wonder. Thanks again. I don’t see/read your blog all that often, but so far, you have
    consistently hit the sweet spot. Good on ya.

    Like

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