Listening To You While Driving Home

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Driving up-Island, I slid the cd

into the player. The music swirled,

and then the spoken words:

"The minute I heard my first love story,

I started looking for you,

not knowing how blind that was.

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.

They're in each other all along."

Enchantment. Enlightenment. 

Electricity. Recognition.

Somewhere within, through all the years 

of searching, I had known this

without knowing.

Gazing at the clouds

wisping across the mountains

like Sufi dancers,

I was smiling.

"Let the beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways

to kneel and kiss the ground."

Your words a blessing in my ears,

the effervescence of your love

a benediction

in my heart.

Posted for Kim's prompt at Verse First: Writers are Lovers: to write a tribute to a poet we adore. I chose Rumi.