Burnt Kabob

One of my favorite poets is Rumi. He is often considered the most popular poet in the U.S. I was going through a tough time and a coworker handed me the book The Essential Rumi, and said I think you need this more than I do. And it all began.


Burnt Kabob

Last year, I admired wines. This,

I’m wandering inside the red world.


Last year, I gazed at the fire.

This year I’m burnt kabob.


Thirst drove me down to the water

where I drank the moon’s reflection.


Now I am a lion staring up totally

lost in love with the thing itself.


Don’t ask questions about longing.

Look into my face.


Soul drunk, body ruined, these two

sit helpless in a wrecked wagon.

Neither knows how to fix it.


And my heart, I’d say it was more

like a donkey sunk in a mudhole,

struggling and miring deeper.


But listen to me: for one moment,

quit being sad. Hear blessings

dropping their blossoms

around you. God.