My father introduced me to Omar Khayyam & Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. He preferred Rudyard Kipling, I don't. I like the Persian mystics & scholars of long, long ago.
The old man was no Christian believer, the war, his time in India & the hand me down ways of those who went before him, saw to that. Add his 'joie de vivre' & Kipling suited him well.
"Ship me somewhere East of Suez, where the best is like the worst
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst"
Rumi is a highly regarded 13th century Islamic poet, scholar & mystic.
“I have lived on the lip of insanity, wanting to know reasons,
knocking on a door. It opens.
I've been knocking from the inside.”
Jalāl ad-Dīn Rūmī
My words are simple.
This poem holds sweet memories, or the future, you decide.
I have written & discarded poetry for 40 years , until now unread..
Yes, yes, I’ll wear that dress, I wore it then, but look, it has a hole in the hem;
Caught on a briar as I recall, running down a Roseland field to meet the yawl we all launched earlier
Running! We were still youthful then my friends!
Yes, yes, I’ll wear that dress, I wore it on the day, but now the sleeve has frayed:
Snagged on the car when we stood, singing in a Lakeland camp covered in mud as the flood engulfed our tents
Singing! We were hopeful then my friends!
Aged & faded that dress & me: you may say the best has got away
Catch back your words you have been misled, the stain of sweet memories has spread through the threads of the fabric
Memories! Of friends, my friends!
Yes, yes, I’ll wear that dress, look this is it! & it still fits
Perhaps tomorrow we’ll go away, driving up north in search of days & ways to run, like we did before
For the best is yet to come
The best is yet to come!