Rumi why fear death

Mistake: Choose Email for contact not necessary :. Related Authors Shams Tabrizi. Hafez Poet. Yunus Emre Poet. Saadi Poet. Omar Khayyam Philosopher. Farid al-Din Attar Poet. Khalil Gibran Poet. Rumi Follow Unfollow. Login with your account.

Create an Account. Password: Forgot Password? Create account. Have an account? Sign in. I open to your majesty as an orchard welcomes rain, and twenty times that.

I died as a mineral and became a plant, I died as a plant and rose to animal, I died as an animal and I was Man. Why should I fear? When was I less by dying? In the slaughterhouse of love, they kill only the best, none of the weak or deformed. Don't run away from this dying.

Whoever's not killed for love is dead meat. Do you pay regular visits to yourself? Don't argue or answer rationally. Let us die, and dying, reply. I died from a mineral and plant became, Died from the plant, took a sentient frame; Died from the beast, donned a human dress - When by my dying did I ever grow less.

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By closing this banner, scrolling this page, clicking a link or continuing to browse otherwise, you agree to the use of cookies. Login Sign Up. I discovered it during a focused time of spiritual re-awakening that coincided with a period of some of my most productive creative writing. I wrote Noble Light in the fall of and it was one of two poems that unknowingly at the time, formed my jumping off point into what has become my obsession with sonnets.

You could say Noble Light was my gate way drug. Obviously it is not a sonnet, but this poem was one of the most difficult I have ever written. I had dozens of drafts that I worked on for over a month that eventually I came to the realize, was actually two poems, not one. Once I dissected the lines and phrases and ideas into their respective corners, each poem on its own came together rather quickly.

The other poem, also a poem of forgiveness, vaguely resembles a sonnet and Noble Light typical of my free verse, has just a tinge of rhyme to help the flow. Back in those days, I would often share a finished draft of a new poem with my Mother via email as part of our daily correspondence.

She often had interesting insights or suggestions for edits that made my writing better. It was fun to share with her the thrill of creativity and our mutual love of poetry. At that time I was writing so prodigiously I rarely went back to reread what I had written earlier, I filed poems away in the cloud of my little google Chromebook and moved on to the next poem and the next and the next. And so it surprised me a year later on one of our poetry nights, where each of us brought 4 to 5 poems to read, always from other poets not our original work, that she surprised me by selecting Noble Light to read back to me as one of her current favorites.

I was honored and after she read it she shared her perspective of why this poem resonated with her. The next spring my Mother suffered a severe heart attack and wound up in two weeks of rehab following 10 days in the ICU and hospital.