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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460076" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In the spirit of Rumi - 41 - Prayer</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the street outside the window<br>a beautiful young maiden passes; <br>only her eyes, looking straight ahead, demurely down, <br>are to be seen of her, above her veil, below her headscarf; and yet –<br>around her, as we draw our breath, transfixed –<br>around her, all the air is radiant with the light of love…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and in the following days, for hours each day, <br>we, love-smitten, wait in hope to catch her<br>as she passes; and the more we see her passing, <br>the more we seek to snare her attention; <br>hoping for the day when, as she passes, <br>her lovely eyes may glance so briefly, glance this way…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and on that day, the day of days<br>which we have waited for, for weeks and months -<br>then, it is no longer all we want: <br>how to ensnare her gaze? so that, one day, <br>our burning ears and lips may draw one single word from her…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">*</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Wise men say in the ancient tongue, the word, <br>to pray, meant, to incline, to listen – and, to snare…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and so for every one of us, our whole life is prayer: <br>from the first moment to the last, <br>from the first time when the baby’s eyes<br>meet those of loving parents, until<br>the last moment when our eyes turn upward…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">we bow in adoration of the Beloved, <br>of whom we are not worthy; yet…<br>then listen for the first word breathed<br>by child; by parent; lover; ruler; God…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, lover and beloved both alike, <br>set snares to catch our Beloved to ourselves…<br>that Beloved who is outside us, yet within…<br>that sleeping beauty who is our very self.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and, since prayer is love, our Beloved<br>sets snares for us also, to test our love; <br>this is the lovely game of love…<br>God plays it too with us: <br>to test our faith, to test our trust, to test our love…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Prayer, O Beloved, is pure love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460076" data-title="In the spirit of Rumi - 41 - Prayer de Michael Shepherd" data-description="In the street outside the window
a beautiful young maiden passes; 
only her eyes, looking straight ahead, demurely down, 
are to be seen of her, above her veil, below her headscarf; and yet –
around her, as we draw our breath, transfixed –
aro..."></div>
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