Tag Archives: humility

Poetry, Writing

Hafiz – Poem 35

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All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 35:

Harvests of spirituality could burn
Right on down to the ground
In the flames of self-denial
& the bonfires of hypocrisy

Some thoughts:

A lot of work comes before the output of a harvest. There is tilling, sowing, watering, weeding, pruning, feeding, and scaring pests away. To reach the point of harvest in spiritual terms means we’ve been doing something right. We’ve been putting in the effort necessary to produce noticeable fruits of the spirit. We are right at the finish line, ready to pluck the bounty from the stems and feast on our reward. Surely, we would never sabotage our own efforts and burn it all to the ground.

But it happens all the time. We become rigid in our ways and begin to try to change aspects of ourselves that we think must be purified even more. In our search for perfection, we become more and more radicalized in our thinking, unwilling to compromise or accept any other ideas. We think we have figured out the truth, the only way, the perfect path, and no one else could possibly be right. We lose humility and set ourselves in the place of judgement as though we know the Will of God. We light the flames of justice and destroy ourselves in the process, hypocrites that we have become in our staunchness.

Maybe we need to go back to the early days of tilling and pruning to be reminded that toiling in the dirt is part of being human. We are made of the stuff. We are not asked to deny our humanness, nor make idols of our belief systems. We are only meant to reap what we sow and give thanks every step of the process. The harvest is no more holy than the weeding. And not allowing ourselves to enjoy the fruits of our labors is a crime against the natural order of things. Hard work deserves to be rewarded and we are worth it.

My Poem 35:

Planting mystery seeds in soil
turned twice, watered with tears,
and weeded by blistered hands,

the bountiful produce gleams
in the sunlight like golden prosperity
waiting to be reaped and gathered.

If only, if only…pride goes before,
and losing the self in the process
hurts nearly as much as the regret.

How many acres of spiritual crops
must burn to ashes before we admit
we might not know everything?

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

This poem “The Flint” by Christina Rossetti felt connected somehow. Something in the humble nature of the flint, who retains its flintness without flinching, is inspiring.

Rossetti, Christina. Sing-Song: A Nursery Rhyme Book. George Routledge and Sons, 1872.

Poetry, Writing

Hafiz – Poem 30

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All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 30:

The Alley of Prestige
Is not for us

If you don’t like it
Try changing Justice

Some thoughts:

Alleys are narrow, hidden, not the usual route the rest of us walk down to get where we’re going. Since Hafiz calls this an Alley of Prestige, I imagine he is talking about a passageway where most would not be welcome. It is probably where the top echelon of society rub elbows on their way to somewhere fancy and exclusive. I don’t think these are the people striving for healthy excellence, but perhaps those competing for fame and admiration. He is saying that people who are walking the Way of Love of taking a different route. We have different priorities.

It doesn’t mean we can’t have success or wealth or any of the other abundant blessings that are meant to come our way, but it should not be the goal of our actions. And if we don’t like the fact that the Way of Love does not chase prestige, our issue is with Justice. Reality is structured such that true pursuit of divine love requires the collapse of ego-seeking. If we spend all our time trying to rig the system, play the game of hierarchy, and resent not being admired, we might not be on the right path. We should not be focused on climbing the social ladder, competing for favor, or performing for prestige. Integrity, humility, and honor may not always get the applause, but they are on the side of Justice.

My Poem 30:

Wouldn’t it be lovely
if the people rewarded
with the most prestige,
the biggest salaries,
and the praise and glory
were the people who give
of themselves every day
for the sake of others?

-nurses who lift and check
and wipe and console
and heal and save and carry
our burdens when we are at
our weakest and most
vulnerable.

-teachers who fill the minds
of the next generation
and inspire our greatest
creators of the future.

-health aids who do the dirty
work of managing these failing
bodies when they are at their worst.

-classroom aids who sit beside
the child who needs the help,
patience of a saint corralling
the minds least open
to knowledge.

-daycare workers who
raise the babies while
their parents must work.

-librarians who solve
and guide and suggest
and provide the hope
and light of promise
books represent for all.

Not that politicians
and football players
and Wall Street traders
don’t have important
functions in society,
but I’ve never wept
in one of their arms
as I struggled with fear
and pain and been
comforted
by their wisdom
and compassion.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Poetry, Writing

Hafiz – Poem 28

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All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 28:

Last night
In the Alley of the Tavern
The local imam
With his perennial prayer rug on his back
Was carried out on somebody else’s back

Some thoughts:

I love this poem. It is a gentle reminder that we are all human. Anytime we put someone up on a pedestal, we are bound to be disappointed because people are flawed. We are weak and faulty, even when we have good intentions. Not only that, we all get sick, have to attend to bodily needs like eating, drinking, sleeping, urinating, and taking a dump. The president, the king, nuns, the most famous movie star you’ve ever admired, Oprah—everyone blows their nose, coughs, sneezes, hiccups, burps, farts, and sweats. No one is immune from the humbling effects of being mortal. If the most religious person out there drinks too much, they are going to get drunk and have to be carried home—them and their religious book, prayer rug, or other holy items they have on them.

This reminds me of some haikus that speak to a similar idea of mortality leveling the playing field a bit if we begin to think people are too far above us:

A high priest empties his bowels in the withered fields—
—Buson

Ah, the bamboo shoots—a priest from Saga visits the outhouse
—Onitsura

sôjô ga no-guso asobasu higasa kana
in the middle of the field
the high priest’s parasol—
taking a dump
—Kobayashi Issa

With no underrobes,
bare butt suddenly exposed —
a gust of spring wind.
—Yosa Buson, 18th century Zen poet

Some more sayings I’ve heard that speak to the same concept:

  • We all bleed the same color.
  • Death is the great equalizer.
  • Everyone puts their pants on one leg at a time.

These are also good reminders to us, so we don’t start “thinking our poop don’t stink,” another saying to keep us humble. As a recovering alcoholic, I can never allow my mindset to be, “I can drink now. I can handle it.” If I begin to think that I can somehow control my body’s natural reactions to a chemical I put inside it, all hell will break loose eventually. I must be honest with myself and accept my limitations. And I sure shouldn’t be acting like I couldn’t fall off the wagon, like I’m somehow better than others or impervious to temptation. My “prayer rug” would be the delusion that I’m above all that and would never take another drink, no matter what. What’s that saying, “There but for the grace of God go I?” Ameen.

My Poem 28:

While the president
sits on the toilet to poop
are they still in charge?

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Art, People, Poetry, Writing

Lead With Grace

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All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

To lead with grace
requires steel humility
when praised
and iron confidence
when cursed,
for either extreme
wields the awful
temptation to unsettle
the serene pond of self.
To yield to right
and bow only to integrity
fills her people
with love overflowing,
willing to sacrifice all
in service to her rule.