Sit an Hour

More about Sit an Hour

Sit an Hour,
Not a Minute,
Nor a day,
Listen
to the whispers
that come your way
when within
the heart
love
does pray,
Allow
the golden dust
within the air
to gather,
solidify,
into tools
that may
be applied
to the
longing
and hurt
inside,
And Know
that the
Heart
of the
Heavens
was near,
Did hear
your heart
and mind,
Was Kind
enough
to send
these tools
your way
to be
applied.

In response, and inspired by a poem within the book, THE GIFT, Poems by HAFIZ, The Great Sufi Master, Translations by Daniel Ladinsky.

Certainly not to say I am a master or even an apprentice in any way of poetry or mystical insight—all is simply a creative endeavor to see what my own mind and heart may say of the poem, to try and put it into my own words, or simply to respond to the ideas set forth by HAFIZ, and translated by Daniel.

(My apologies, this footnote will be repeated as I intend, at least presently, to continue in this mode for awhile. I am quite curious how AI will interpret things and how I may work and play, tweek words and such to perhaps change the direction AI is taking, in the end, hopefully to make a dream worthwhile sharing.)