Day 133: One Day
I used to work for a priest. He was an inspired man. He was passionate about leading and loving, he was injured and recovered and empathic to those still hurting, and he was horrid at keeping a schedule. When I left the church, he gave me a book, signed in love, that I put on a shelf and never read.
It’s a funny thing about resting on Islands, you dust off and look at things that’ve always been with you but haven’t been seen.
The book is one of poetry. It’s a collection of sacred voices from the East and West, calling out…
There is a woman whose writings are absolutely haunting me.
I guess that’s what good poetry does.
Her name is Rabia. She was an Islamic saint who lived in the 8th century. I like to think about that; she was born exactly 1300 years ago, in a time and religion and culture that are completely foreign to me, yet her words resonate as if they were my own.
It is said that she was separated from her parents at a young age, was stolen, and sold into slavery. A brothel bought her where she worked until she was 50 years old and was given her freedom by a rich patron. “The remaining years of her life were devoted to mediation and prayer, and she would often see visitors seeking guidance about their lives.”¹
There are a handful of poems here that I would consider my “good thing” today, but the one that gets me the most follows…
It’s brevity is magical. How can so few words fill up the entire sky with image, meaning, and knowing?
Take a breath,
clear your mind,
and hear:
ONE DAY
One day He did not leave after
kissing
me.
¹ From Love Poems from God by Daniel Ladinsky