Friday, July 06, 2007


I've said before that every craftsman
searches for what's not there
to practice his craft.

A builder looks for the rotten hole
where the roof caved in. A water-carrier
picks the empty pot. A carpenter
stops at the house with no door.

Workers rush toward some hint
of emptiness, which they then
start to fill. Their hope, though,
is for emptiness, so don't think
you must avoid it. It contains
what you need!
Dear soul, if you were not friends
with the vast nothing inside,
why would you always be casting you net
into it, and waiting so patiently?

- Rumi VI (1369-1420) from 'Rumi : One-Handed Basket Weaving. Read the rest here.

I am reading Rumi this weekend, and thinking about the creative process. Kelly, at Big A little a has been without a computer and she asks us how we write. There is a really interesting conversation going on in the comments.

This month Literary Mama is asking the question "Where do you write?" There is a great essay posted by Jennifer Ruden about a desk she loved to sit at to do her writing. This poem by Rumi is helping me realize that whether I sit at my desk or stand under the shower, the place I am writing is inside.

The round up is at Farm School today. Click over there for more poetry.


Alkelda the Gleeful said...

Cool! I need to read more Rumi. I just know the "Don't Go Back to Sleep" one.

Sara said...

Yes. "The place I'm writing is inside." Lovely.

Thanks for coming to see me.

Jules said...

That is a great selection. I love your blog. Have I ever said that, for the record? Anyway, thanks for commenting, too, esp. about taking pictures daily and the healing it can bring.

Sara said...

Oh, and thanks for telling me about Project 365. I had no idea. They say that we become what we focus on...

Schelle said...

Great poem! and I totally agree about writing 'on the inside'. I have always longed for someone to invent a 'thought recorder' because the best turns of phrase and combinations of words always seems to happen when I can't write them down - and when I do get the chance, I can never recapture that feeling of 'perfect-ness'... I'm off to read the rest of Rumi's poem...