A Long Line of Rags

Instead of more ragging, here's a poem, sent by my friend A. It's by Hafiz, a Persian poet from the fourteenth century, and that makes me feel better, like I'm just one in a very long line of rags.

This Talking Rag




It
Was all
So clear this morning.


My mind and heart had never felt
More convinced:


There is only God,
A Great Wild
God.


But somehow I got yanked from
That annihilating
Realization


And can now appear again
As this wine-stained
Talking

Rag.