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I copied this poem into my journal today—a new journal of only 28 pages, not even yet saddle-stitched, though I will do that, too. I am tired of big journals that require months and months (or even more than a year) to fill, and I’ve been wanting to make my own for some time now. Anyway, the poem, by Hafiz (translated, I believe, by Daniel Ladinsky, but I’d have to double check. This particular poem I tore from the book years ago and placed under glass in a collage with pictures and quotes and photos):

Only One Rule

The sky
Is a suspended blue ocean.
The stars are the fish that swim.

The planets are the white whales I sometimes
Hitch a ride
On,

The sun and all light
Have forever fused themselves into my heart,
And upon my skin.

There is only one rule on this Wild Playground,
Every sign that Hafiz has ever seen
Reads the same.
They all say,

“Have fun, my dear; my dear, have fun,
In the Beloved’s divine Game,

O, In the Beloved’s
Wonderful
Game.”

Isn’t it fun, to feel your self coming back after a period of stress?  That’s what today was like for me.  In the morning I hiked up the ridge behind my house.  Of course my dogs came, but curiously, and endearingly, two of my cats came as well.  The forest floor is coming alive.  The blue cohosh is already blooming.  There’s a huge patch of it, and I like to think of it up there, waving in the night air.  Mountain mint is sprouting up, too.  I will be transplanting a few plants of both of these to my garden.

I worked in the studio today for the first time in many weeks.  Really this is how I come back to myself.  Not necessarily being in the studio so much as honoring my creative and spiritual needs, instead of shrinking from them.

I also pieced together the aforementioned journal, and wrote two little poems, and a few pages more.  I sat on the deck of my studio and watched the clouds fly to the East, dappling the ground with their shade.


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