What I want... maybe.

This is what I am constantly thinking (and saying) I want - and yet when push comes to shove, I'm one of those who at the end, packs up their stuff and heads for the hills. And even while I'm heading for those hills, I'm still thinking about how I should stay and how good it might feel in the end...

Those Sufi poets - did they really live what they wrote about? or did they just write it? I wonder....



Love wants to reach out and manhandle us,
Break all our teacup talk of God.

If you had the courage and
Could give the Beloved His choice, some nights,
He would just drag you around the room
By your hair,
Ripping from your grip all those toys in the world
That bring you no joy.

Love sometimes gets tired of speaking sweetly
And wants to rip to shreds
All your erroneous notions of truth

That make you fight within yourself, dear one,
And with others,

Causing the world to weep
On too many fine days.

God wants to manhandle us,
Lock us inside of a tiny room with Himself
And practice His dropkick.

The Beloved sometimes wants
To do us a great favor:

Hold us upside down
And shake all the nonsense out.

But when we hear
He is in such a 'playful drunken mood'

Most anyone I know
Quickly packs their bags and hightails it
Out of town.

~ HAFIZ, The Great Sufi Master