don't hang me another glass of wine

pour it in my mouth

i've lost the way to my mouth

this wine we drink is really our own blood

our bodies ferment in these barrels

we give everything for a glass of this

we give our minds for a sip

do you think i know what i am doing

that for one breath or half breath i belong to myself

as much as a pen knows what it's writing 

or the ball can guess where it's going next

when death comes like dawn

and you wake up laughing at 

what you thought was your grief

are these enough words 

or shall i squeeze more juice from this

 - who am i my friend

this is not a day for asking questions

not a day on any calendar

this day is conscious of itself

thoughts take form with words

but this daylight is beyond

out beyond ideas of

right doing and wrong doing

there's a field

i'll meet you there

there's two kinds of intelligence

one acquired

a child in school learns

 facts and concepts

information from the sciences

ranks ahead or behind others

 in regard to the competence in retaining information

strolling with this intelligence in and out of fields of knowledge

getting always more marks on the preserving tablets

there is another kind of tablet

 already completed and preserved inside you

overseeing your body

even though you may not be aware of its work

 a fluid that doesn't move from outside to inside

through the conduits of plumbing-learning

this second knowing is a fountainhead from within you

moving out

 welcome difficulty

learn the alchemy

whoever sees the emptiness

sees the beyond

food for what needs no food

no more wine for me

i'm past delighting in the thick red

and the clear white

i will search

with all my passion and all my energy

until i learn 

that i don't need to search

rumi (1207 - 1273)