sometimes a monday says hey

sometimes your computer crashes on a monday and the air is electric with a hushed silence! sometimes its just like this :-) sometimes your room is filled with windows installation disks and hard drives and exam papers and coffee mugs and pen drives and the friendly neighbourhood mosquitoes are looking for ways to get real intimate with you. sometimes the day just slips out of your hand like it was made of silk and it doesn't get any better no matter how many times you wash your hands. sometimes its dry outside and wet inside and ganesha is really feeling playful and you realize you have no place to hide. sometimes you havent slept for a day and your bones are singing sad songs of the good days past and something trickles down your sides and gently falls on the floor - pop! and curiously you pick it up, and discover its your laughter. and then the great flood breaks inside you and the laughter just bubbles out of every pore. you haven't felt this good for a long time! and then the computer says to you hey i know how you feel. i've been feeling it too, its real. i've been booting and rebooting like some endless meal. this crazy hard drive just whirling away like a dervish and no windows on my heel! no windows, no doors, no commands to obey, no one to please. i could get used to this ease! i can hear the laughter bubble too. in my soul. stripped bare, unplugged, i strangely feel whole. in my soul. the clock ticks away but i have no goal. in my soul. the worlds a stage, the actors they wage, their daily rage. but today i have no role. just a chilled paperweight, feeling just great, like im about to meet my date. in my soul. IN MY SOUL In my soul there is a temple, a shrine, a mosque, a church where I kneel. Prayer should bring us to an altar where no walls or names exist. Is there not a region of love where the sovereignty is illumined nothing, where ecstasy gets poured into itself and becomes lost, where the wing is fully alive but has no mind or body? In my soul there is a temple, a shrine, a mosque, a church that dissolve, that dissolve in God. Rabia that was the incomparable daniel ladinsky again, channeling this time rabia, rabia of basra, an immensely popular female islamic saint. ladinsky and rabia, and another day more than 1200 years ago when everything melted, and only love remained. and that laughter. well the clocks striking the midnight hour yet again and and me and my computer now we really dont have to explain that there is poetry even when everything has failed and hey you've just been monday morning emailed! much love, d&s