To Anything That Moved
Yesterday it was sweet madness,
Reciting poems for hours
And talking about love to anything that
I lay down late thinking I might be able to sleep
All the way until there was light
Of resplendent sounds - and polished jokes
From the morning birds.
That was foolish of me,
For in just a few minutes, three worlds
Crawled from a cave in my heart,
Built a huge fire and yelled,
They could not contain their happiness
Living in one as ripe as I.
We began jumping up and down
And banging our heads
Like a drunk bronze clapper in a sacred Buddhist bell
Against the fields and mountains,
Against all the jeweled walls of this Universe.
Yesterday was such exquisite madness,
Singing about the Friend for hours
And talking about love to anything
That dared to move.
Yet I believe another wonderful day,
And perhaps even a sweeter height of rare, inspired insanity,
0 Hafiz, has just begun.