Rosa Mistica

Slowly,
intermingled,

the words come alive.

The light of my dreams,
tender paths to wisdom.

And the Voice comes between
these words, these half smiles,
a fountain filled with talismans.

And it is true that one learns
what he less expected to learn.

Always slowly and in a torrent
of calm, of infinite soul motion
of whispers without lips
that gently opens the door.

Once a Sufi master told me
"not to be afraid to love".

And now, that I am fearless
I would so much prefer to learn how to feel

This Love of Yours
all by myself
without any book, any word
other than Yours
in my dreams.

To be afraid to walk
before all this wonder
that is a maze with one exit.
An exit that leads to the Unknown Known.

Oh, You,
Pillow of secrets
forever, eternally kept so close
that it is hard to discern them
without a lens called Pure Heart!