The moon came to me last night with a sweet question. She said, “The sun has been my faithful lover for millions of years. Whenever I offer my body to him, brilliant light pours from his heart. Thousands that notice my happiness and delight in pointing towards my beauty. Hafiz—is it true that our destiny is to turn into light itself?”
I replied, “Dear moon, now that your love is maturing, we need to sit together close like this, more often, so that I may instruct you in how to become…who you are.”
~Mooji on Hafiz
It drips from your fingertips.
Seeps into the pores of your skin.
Bum rushes my castle doors.
Makes a home in the recesses of my soul.
Shoots rainbow light showers from my life center.
You become the sun and I the moon.
The touch of love.
The touch of you.
The sounds of your dreams whisper to me.
The shadows of your breath fill the darkness.
I gather myself and disappear in the night.
Morning comes and your craving haunts you.
You reach for my warmth only to touch the empty cold you leave me with.
And I no longer remember.
The feeling is as fleeting as the moment.
Night and day.
I drink you in, watering my thirst.
Your cold pierces my skin and I cannot wash you off.
The briskness to your wind cuts to my bones and I crave the way you feel.
Your birds fly into my heart making a ruckus.
Your light is blinding, but I do not need to see.
I open to you, melting your ice with my warmth.
You thought you would freeze me, but I am your divine counterpart.
You cannot conquer me.
You only compliment me.
You sustain me as I sustain you.
You thought we were separate, different—something called individual.
What a fool you’ve been.
To forget we are one.
Waking up to you is like magic.
Waking up to me.