WHERE EVERYTHING IS MUSIC

We have fallen into the place where everything is music.

The strumming and the flute notes rise into the atmosphere,

and even if the whole world's harp should burn up,

there will still be hidden instruments playing.

So the candle flickers and goes out.

We still have a piece of flint and a spark.

This singing art is sea foam.

The graceful movements come from a pearl

somewhere on the ocean floor.

Poems reach up like spindrift at the edge

of driftwood along the beach, wanting!

They derive from a slow and powerful root

that we can not even see.

Stop the words now.

Open the window of your chest,

and let the spirits fly in and out.          

~Rumi