Painting The Sky

by Debra Mae White on March 11, 2012

The body will again become restless
Until your soul paints all its beauty
Upon the sky.

Don’t tell me, dear ones,
That what Hafiz says is not true,

For when the heart tastes its glorious destiny
And you awake to our constant need
For your love

God’s lute will beg
For your

– The Lute Will Beg, The Gift by Hafiz as translated By Daniel Ladinsky

Lately I have been muddling in the minutia of living. It seems I turned my head for but a moment and the mindful got replaced by the meaningless. Caught up in comings and goings, I have dallied in the distractions of day to day existence, plagued by my piddling.

Only when the longing in my heart grew loud and unruly did I awaken to the need to return to my pen and greet the divine. My presence on the page beckoned as the lute of Hafiz begged.

Despite the incessant chaos I call my life, my desire is to write. Yet the words remain elusive until I go to where they dwell inside of me. My inner sanctum simply cannot be glimpsed from the surface of my awareness as I skate through activities. To go deep I must make slow and deliberate movement toward rest.

The process starts by setting a time and place for solitude. There I begin to excavate the depth of my soul, digging down through layers of myself before I dare touch the treasure that lies beneath. What has been created must be cleared. All thoughts, no matter how profound, need to be purged. Even those conjured to enliven or uplift are set aside to experience the virtue I seek. The divine muse will not enter where disorder resides.

I have learned that stillness is what draws the Goddess near. When I lift up my pen in the midst of such essence, I feel like an artist painting love upon the sky.

Savor the moment…

Debra Mae

{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }

Devoni Wardlow March 12, 2012 at 8:30 am

I find myself piddling way too much, too! It’s so hard to concentrate and focus and compose and complete when there is no deadline to force you to do so. And when the outside is beckoning me to come out and play in the flower beds. And when unread books and magazines are piling up on my bedside night stand. On the other hand, all those things are…restful. 🙂


Shanee March 12, 2012 at 11:45 pm

I just love the way you have said so much, so succinctly, and evocatively. There are so many layers to get through to the stillness, and I am the same, the only way for me is to make space and time and just write.


Margaret Duarte March 15, 2012 at 10:39 pm

Not only well said, but beautifully said. I so understand.


diana m April 19, 2012 at 6:05 pm

That is really beautiful and inspirational.


Debra Mae White April 19, 2012 at 6:58 pm

Thank you so much for your kind compliment Diana.


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